


10 x 12 Prompted

by verfound



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon
Genre: 10 Prompts, Ami is the Sophie to his Howl, Crystal Tokyo Era, F/M, Features everyone at times but they're the focus, Ficlet Collection, One Shot Collection, Present/College-Age Era, Prompt Fic, Silver Millennium Era, Zoisite is a kilt-wearing Irish bastard most times
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-08 04:06:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 95,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3194720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verfound/pseuds/verfound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[A series of ficlets inspired by the twelve prompt tables at 10 Prompts.]  Ami's Second Holiday: When the memories start coming back, Ami returns to the castle the boy in a skirt once showed her to find there’s more than just his ghost story haunting the land.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Revisionary Foreword: Notes on Names

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few notes to clear up before we begin...

** Introductory Notes – or, a Revisionary Foreword **

Way back when I first started these, I was content to just have a quick note before the first one and be done with it, since I abhor wasting chapter space for notes.  But as these have progressed and my headcanon has fleshed out a bit, we’re going to consider this a bit of a revisionary foreword.

 

So the basics: This is a collection of ficlets inspired by the twelve prompt tables over at LiveJournal’s 10 Prompts community.  There should be 120 of them in total, because apparently I’m an overambitious nut job, but at the time I was just looking for some low-stress prompt writing to navigate the insanity that was Senior Year at university.  Each chapter is meant to stand alone, but some are connected because the ideas got so out of control.  The main focus is Zoisite x Ami, because Shippers Gonna Ship, but the others appear throughout.  ‘Canon’ pairings apply, with Senshi x Shitennou pairings being considered canon.

 

**Navigating the Names: Modern Shitennou, SilMil Senshi**

Like a lot of ficcers, I took the route of renaming the boys.  I just didn’t see them keeping gemstone names in a modern setting, and it helped develop backstories for them.  (Like Nate’s mother is Navajo, his father is a businessman from out West, and his family is HUGE, which Makoto loves.  And Kassim’s parents immigrated to the UK in their twenties from Saudi Arabia.  Which is how his family got tied up with the Murphys.)  I tried to keep the first letter of the names the same, and I also tried to tie the names to their cultural ruling/kingdoms.

 

Kunzite: Kassim Kadar (Middle East: Arab)

Jadeite: Tanaka Joji (Far East: Japanese)

Nephrite: Nayati ‘Nate’ Jones (North American: Native American)

Zoisite: Zane Murphy (European: Irish)

 

Likewise, when it came to writing the Silver Millennium, I renamed the girls.  I used the names of goddesses and tried to pull from the mythology associated to their counterpart’s kingdoms (because I guess I thought it’d be poetic/romantic?) and their element.  I also went and renamed the Outers, even though I wasn’t sure if I’d be using them, to cover all my bases – which is how Michiru also ended up with an Irish name, because Neptune and Mercury are often depicted as cousins.  And Pluto…I just searched for goddesses associated with Time, and flipped my shit when I found out that particular goddess applied.  Because I’m a dork.  xD

 

Ami: Brigid (Celtic goddess of wisdom/healing (among other things), associated with Athena)

Rei: Fuchi (Japanese goddess of fire)

Makoto: Cocijo (South Mexican god of thunder)

Minako: Hathor (Egyptian goddess of sky, love, beauty, and music)

Michiru: Sinann (Irish goddess of the River Shannon)

Haruka: Kishar (Akkadian ‘mother earth’ goddess; counterpart to a sky god)

Hotaru: Hel (Norse goddess of death/guardian of hell)

Setsuna: Kali (Hindu goddess of, among other things, time)

 

**Navigating the Language: Zane is a Kilt-wearing Irish Bastard**

As stated above, Zane is Irish.  I have this headcanon that the Japanese language is inert in the boys: they learned it/were fluent during their time in the Dark Kingdom, but since – with the exception of Joji, who is Japanese – the language lies dormant until they wake up and remember.  Or, in some cases I have them already living in Japan (usually Zane’s dad is a professor, and a few times I’ve had him teaching at a university there).  Either way, because of his Irish heritage, there is Irish I try to throw in – usually as terms of endearment.  (I blame O.R. Melling and the massive fangirl crush I had on Dara in middle school.)  I don’t go into much detail with the language, as I’m still learning and Am Not Ready for full-on writing, but a few words will pop up.  Below are the most common and their translations.  A few times I throw in extras (like “Ami’s Holiday”, where I have Zane telling his mam “ceapim go bhfuilim i ngrá” – “I think I’m in love”), but those are rare and will have translations in the fics.

 

girseach – young girl, similar to calling someone ‘lass’

mo chara – my friend/dear one

a stór – treasure, ‘sweetheart’

mo chroí – ‘my heart’

gráim thú – I love you

go síoraí – forever

 

Aaaand I think that’s about it?  Man, I can’t believe I finally caved and did this, but I’m hoping it makes some of the fics a bit easier.  Sorry I’m a dork.

 

Until the Shout,

 

Ver


	2. Out of the Storm

**Title:** “Out of the Storm”

**Fandom:** Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon

**Prompt:** 908 (Blindsided)

**Character/Pairing:** Zoisite x Ami

**Rating:** K+ / PG / All Ages

**Word Count:** 2,336

**Summary:** While abroad, Ami ducks into a pub to escape a storm and finds more than she could have bargained for.

**Disclaimer:** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners.  The original characters and plot are the property of the author.  The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise.  No copyright infringement is intended.

**Authors Notes** : College-aged, pre-Crystal Tokyo. I’ve been playing with another fic where they meet up again and it all goes to pot, but I liked the first meeting from that fic too much to let it go. (It was started as cathartic writing, and I don’t know if I’ll ever finish/post it. It cuts a little too close for sharing, y’know?)

 

**_“Out of the Storm”_ **

 

Zane Murphy’s head snapped up like a shot at the sudden _BANG!_ that echoed across the nearly-empty pub. The crack of wood on stone was drowned out by the booming roar of thunder and howling wind of the storm outside. A few of the regulars, old drunks cantankerously nursing cool pints, grumbled and pulled in closer on themselves as they shot withering glares towards the young woman who had just stumbled into their haven with a shout against the strong wind shoving her forward. The sodden market bag in her arms burst, spilling her groceries onto the stone floor and bringing another shout from her as she fell to her knees, her face a burning scarlet even in the low light. She scrambled about gathering her things, completely oblivious to the drunk shouting at her to ‘close the damn door and stop making such a rumpus’.

 

Zane couldn’t help it. He took pity on the girl, and after putting the glass in his hand and the towel he’d been cleaning it with down on the bar he made his way over to her. She didn’t look up as his heavy boots sounded off his approach, nor when the storm was once again locked outside with the forced _snap_ of the door. It wasn’t until he knelt down to help gather her things, his hand brushing against her own, that she was startled enough to look up and lock eyes with him, finally acknowledging his presence. While he was suddenly set off kilter by the startling blue behind those sapphire eyes, the kind of blue he’d only expect to see at sea on a crisp spring day, she seemed to experience a different feeling entirely. The blush immediately vanished as she screamed again – not the shout of surprise that heralded her arrival at the small pub he worked at, but a scream of terror and dread and _death_ – and back-peddled into the door. She tried to make herself as small as possible, shaking as she cowered before him, and the drunk shouted at her again to keep quiet or get the hell out.

 

“S-sorry!” the words stumbled out of Zane’s mouth as he rocked back on his heels. He raised his hands, showing he meant no harm, and waited for her to calm, but even though she was staring at his face, those gorgeous eyes now so wide and filled with fear he could almost feel his heart crack at it, he knew she wasn’t truly seeing _him_. And that…for some reason, it bothered him. It wasn’t just fear in her eyes, but a sense of all-encompassing terror. She literally feared for her life, just at the sight of him. And mixed in with it all, an intense sense of loathing and hate and…regret? He didn’t understand. He didn’t understand how he could evoke such a strong response from a girl he had only just met, but more than that he didn’t understand why a part of him was tearing at the reaction she gave him. Even worse, why a part of him somehow knew he deserved it. Willingly accepted it.

 

The confusing mess of emotions swirling through him was enough to make him ill, but he stayed rooted in front of her. As unwilling to move away from her as she was to engage him.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said again, the words firmer this time and tumbling out in his melodic brogue. An eye cracked open, and she stopped trembling long enough to look up at him in…surprise. “I was just trying to help, ma’am.”

 

He scooped the rest of her things up in his arms and gave her a winning smile. It was the same smile his mate Kassim claimed could charm the skirts off half the girls in County Cork. He rocked back onto his heels then up into a standing position, not dropping a single item of the load he carried, and nodded back to the bar. When she glanced in that direction, he said, “I’ve got a bag back there you can use for this lot. Maybe a pint? Better yet, a cup of tea to warm you from the storm?”

 

She didn’t reply, but she unfolded herself from the door slightly. She worried her lower lip, glancing between the bar and him, and he heaved a resigned sigh at her hesitance. He gave a half-shrug and said, “Suit yourself. I’ll be over there with your tea when you’re ready.”

 

He left her crumpled against the door, walking with even steps back behind the counter. He glanced back at her as he reached under, pulled out a bag, and began filling it with her things, and he noted she no longer looked as afraid. Her eyes hadn’t left him since she’d looked back at him, either, and the vainer part of his pride preened at that. The preening turned into full-out crowing when she unfolded herself from the door and hesitantly walked over to the bar, sliding into a seat in front of him. Her hands were folded primly on the bartop, and her eyes were darting between them and him. He would usually make a joke about how he didn’t bite, but something told him quips wouldn’t be welcomed. Not by her, at least. So instead, he pushed the bag closer to her and slid a mug of warm water and a selection of teabags her way.

 

“There you are,” he said. “No harm done. I’m Zane, by the way,” he said, and she jumped again at the mention of his name. He was holding a hand out to her, and her eyes slid slowly from his face to his outstretched hand and back again. Just when he was about to withdraw the offer and kick himself for being so forceful, she cautiously reached out and grasped his hand.

 

– V –

 

Mizuno Ami had been having a stupendously awful sort of day. It had started when she had woken up late and nearly missed her train, and it had been spiraling downward ever since. There was a toddler with sticky fingers who had gotten a sucker stuck in her hair, the sink in the public restroom at the station had soaked her when she’d tried to wash the sucker out, she had gotten severely lost as she fumbled around an unknown city in an unknown country trying to find the flat she’d be staying at for the next three months, she had discovered a rather unsavory scene in the bathroom upon her arrival, and – when she had left to purchase cleaning products and groceries for that night’s dinner – she had been caught in a hellish storm to boot. All of this, of course, was before she had stumbled through the first public door she had seen – a sleepy little pub with grouchy old men yelling at her for the intrusion – and had her paper shopping bag split down the middle from the beating it had taken in the storm. Just when she thought her day couldn’t get any worse, she had looked up at the kind man who had begun helping her to find… _him_.

 

She hadn’t had time to process the dazed, almost puppy dog look in his eyes or ponder its meaning. The moment she had seen those emerald orbs, ones she had prayed she would never see again, a wave of unpleasant memories and emotions swept over her. She barely remembered screaming as she pressed herself against the door, as far away from that man – that _monster_ – as she could. The part of her that was a proud, strong warrior balked at her damselesque actions, but the greater part of her – the part that knew she was the weakest of the Senshi and always best behind the tactical side – prayed he would just leave her alone. In her mind, she remembered all too well the hell he had put her – all of them – through. The part of her mind that was newly resurfacing, the side that was developing more and more as Usagi neared her twenty-second birthday and the advent of the Crystal Millennium, latched onto her Silver Millennium memories. Those last moments with this man, the shard of dark crystal that sliced through her as if she were water. The blood that warmed her hands even as her body cooled, mixing with her own. The emerald eyes that cleared of the curse just long enough to see her last breaths leave her cooling corpse, his tortured screams of denial – choked with the wetness of his own blood – echoing in her ears.

 

It was such a stark contrast to the mumbled apology that came out in a thick accent from the man before her now.

 

But the next thing she knew, he was scooping up her things and retreating. Giving her space. Offering her tea to warm her up from the chilly storm outside. When he was farther away, she could process him better. He was…different. His hair was still long and curled, still the copper color that used to fascinate her so and still messily slapped back into a loose ponytail. His eyes…they were the same eyes she remembered at night, jovial and perpetually tinged with an air of mischief. There was no trace of the hate, of the shadow that had tinged Metalia’s soldier’s eyes. But...there were subtle differences, too. While he was still effeminate, there was something more…solid about him. Something from before that had been lost in the reincarnation, or at least the reincarnation she had fought against so many years ago. He still looked to be the shortest of the generals, but definitely taller than her, and there was that strength about him. But…he was wearing a green plaid shirt, hanging open in the front with a gray t-shirt hanging loose underneath. Jeans and heavy boots. Nothing of the flair she remembered, but still with a careful, put-together kind of disarray. So much the same, and yet…subtle differences. Differences she felt she couldn’t reconcile. Differences…

 

She saw him looking at her again, and her breath hitched in her throat. He didn’t recognize her. He didn’t know her. Of course not – why would he? Maybe…no. She was overreacting. The stress of a bad day finally proving too much to bear, and she was being ridiculous. That was not Zoi…that man was not _him_. Besides, weren’t the four Shitennou safely tucked away in their stones, hidden somewhere in Usagi and Mamoru’s home? In Japan? There was no way he could be here, standing before her in a little pub in…where was she, again? Crosshaven, Ireland?

 

It was impossible. She was overworked. She should take him up on his offer of tea, regather her wits, and apologize for…well, acting like a basket case.

 

He grinned at her as she took a seat, and again she felt her breath hitch in her chest. Her gaze shot to her hands, folded neatly on the counter, as he began speaking to her. His voice really was quite lovely.

 

“I’m Zane, by the way,” he said, and she jumped before her mind got the better of her. Zane…another name starting with ‘Z’…but no, it was just coincidence. It _had_ to be just coincidence…and he was offering his hand, watching her expectantly with that grin that said he knew how much of a charmer he was, and she took another steadying breath before reaching out and clasping his hand with her own.

 

“Mizu…” her voice trailed off as their skin touched and a jolt powerful as Jupiter’s thunder shot up her arm. She froze, her eyes locking on their hands, and she wondered if he had felt it, too. She glanced up, quickly, to find his eyes had glazed over as he stared at her. His grip was tight, fierce, and terrifying. The chirping of her phone shook her from her daze, and she stammered out an apology before trying to remove her hand – but he wouldn’t let go. He seemed to not notice her efforts at all, actually, and with a shaky, terrified breath she quickly retrieved her phone and, seeing it was Usagi calling through, answered the call.

 

“Ami-chan, I’m so glad I got a hold of you! Look, I know you just got there and won’t be coming home for another couple months, but it’s really important that you –” Usagi rambled as soon as she had rushed out a greeting, and Ami’s focus went from the dazed man before her to the phone in her hand.

 

“Usagi-chan? What happened? Is everything all right? Is Chibi-usa-chan –” she asked, suddenly fearing for her friend. She was still early in her pregnancy – the only reason the soon-to-be-doctor had agreed to this trip with her mentoring professor, given she should be home in plenty of time for Usagi to deliver – but anything could happen. Usagi laughed, a high-pitched, nervous sort of sound that was too unnatural compared to her normal cheer.

 

“I’m fine, Ami-chan, but listen! Mamo-chan went to talk to the Shitennou last night, and…oh, Ami-chan, they’re gone! And we don’t know what happened to them, but…Ami-chan? Ami-chan, are you there? Ami-chan!” Usagi’s voice was hollow in her ears, like a distant shouting echoing down a never-ending tunnel. Her eyes slid back to the man, who seemed to be coming back to himself, as Usagi’s message settled in. The stones were gone. The Shitennou were missing. And she had just stumbled into a pub in Ireland, where a man whose resemblance to the European general’s was too uncanny to be a coincidence. A man who had gone into a trance when he had taken her hand, who was now looking at her like…

 

“Mercury…” he whispered, voice almost reverent. His eyes focused on her pale face, and the grip that had been loosening on her hand tightened once more. “ _Ami…_ ”

 

Her eyes were wide and panicked as her jaw slipped open, and she barely registered Usagi shouting her name as the phone slipped from her hand and clattered onto the bartop.


	3. I'm Hungry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: “I’m Hungry”  
> Fandom: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon  
> Prompt: 302 (Book)  
> Character/Pairing: Mizuno Ami, Zoisite/Zane Murphy; Zoisite x Ami  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen  
> Word Count: 1877  
> Summary: Zane needs food, and his stomach is not willing to wait for his girlfriend to finish her flashcards to get it.  
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.  
> Authors Notes: College/pre-Crystal Tokyo. A bit of ‘senior year is exhausting stress-relief’ silliness.

**_“I’m Hungry”_ **

 

Sometimes it paid to have a boyfriend in college, especially when he was just as much of an ‘egg-head’ as you were. When study dates that consisted of actual studying counted as legitimate quality time, the usual strain that academics put on a relationship was much easier to manage. Even if said boyfriend tended to be on the more aloof, ‘I’m Too Smart For You Eejits And You Know It Why Am I Here Again?’ side. (True, Zane was graduating early at the end of the year – as she would be next year – but he didn’t have to rub their faces in it. Good thing he was an exceptional fighter.)

 

That particular night leading up to midterms found them both in the library, in the quiet little section they had scoped out the year prior that was hardly ever occupied save for them. She was sitting on the floor, her textbooks spread out on the table before her, while he was sprawled out on the couch she was using as a backrest. He had kicked off his shoes shortly after they’d arrived, and he had been nudging her with his toes for the past twenty minutes. Every time she glanced over at him, his face was buried in the textbook propped against his chest, but she would swear she could see the smirk on his annoyingly gorgeous face. The next time he prodded her, she captured his foot in her hand and drew a feather-light touch against its bottom. He squealed – actually _squealed_ – and jerked his foot back. When she looked back to him, he was propped up on his elbow, the textbook fallen forgotten to the floor, and he was gawking at her. She smirked at him and looked back to the flashcards she had been studying.

 

“Stop it,” she said, sending up a quiet prayer of thanks that he was so ticklish. He nudged her again. She shot him a pointed look, and he gave her his best puppy face.

 

“Hey, Ames,” he said, and she rolled her eyes at the nickname. It wasn’t one of her favorites, and he knew it. “Mo chara.” _Much_ better, she thought, thrilling at the way his brogue came out in his native tongue. She had never thought she would be the type to be so easily taken by accents, but Zane had a way of bringing that side out of her. “I’m hungry.”

 

 

She turned her wrist upside-down to glance at her watch. and she balked at the time. They had been studying nonstop for…egads, six hours now. The simple face told her it was just after eight – hadn’t they planned on leaving around seven?

 

He nudged her shoulder again, and she shot him a perturbed (if slightly sympathetic) glare.

 

“Get your stinking feet away from me,” she said, and he grinned at her in his ‘I’m Adorable Don’t You Love Me?’ way (and damn it all if she really, really did, stinky feet and all).

 

“I’m hungry,” he said again. He pushed himself up and bent over so he was nearly level with her face, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Aren’t you hungry, Ami?”

 

“I…” she started, but he was being so very distracting with how close he had moved. His eyes were exceptionally bright, and maybe she was hungry, but she was finding it hard to remember that with him quite so close.

 

“I didn’t get lunch,” he said, and her eyes widened as his stomach chose the perfect moment to make itself known. “And scratch hungry – I’m bloody _starving_.”

 

Usually, this was the point of the evening where one of them would run out and grab some takeout, usually sandwiches from the little café at the front of the library. It was a convenient system: one could seek out sustenance while the other remained to study. Sometimes, on the nights where they didn’t have as much work or were farther ahead than they’d anticipated, they both left. The problem tonight was that the café had closed ten minutes ago, and she didn’t quite feel like leaving the haven of the library yet.

 

“So go get something to eat,” she said, and he groaned as he flopped back on the sofa.

 

“I can’t – I’m too weak, girseach!” he moaned, tossing an arm over his eyes for added affect. “I need food, but I’m too weak to fetch it!”

 

“Drama queen,” she huffed before turning back to her flashcards. He lifted the arm slightly to peek out at her.

 

“I got the food last time?” he offered, but she wouldn’t budge. “Ami! You’re killing me here!”

 

“I’m almost done,” she said. “Give me ten more minutes and we can go find something together.”

 

“I’ll be dead in ten minutes – I need food now!” he whined. She shot him another look only to find he was once again slouched all over the sofa, his head turned down as he looked at her from a nearly upside-down position. “I’m gonna waste away, and then I’ll die, and I won’t reincarnate this time, and you’ll be so very sorry because you’ll miss me so very much –”

 

“Unlikely,” she snorted, but he prattled on as if he hadn’t heard her. He probably hadn’t.

 

“– and did I ever tell you my parents this time ‘round are diabetic? That means low blood sugar, and bad things can happen if my sugar gets too low, and I feel it dropping now and –” he continued, and she finally slammed her flashcards down and glared at him.

 

“Zane, honestly! Your parents are _not_ diabetic – they’re retired in Kinsale!” she huffed, and he blinked at her before his face screwed into a look of confusion. From the upside-down angle, his nose looked crinklier than usual. It was kind of adorable, in a ‘I Want To Hit You Right There’ sort of way.

 

“What’s that got to do with…fine, never mind. I’m not diabetic. But I’m still starving!” he whined, and she rolled her eyes as she leaned her head back against the sofa. She turned her head to find he had shifted closer so that their faces were barely a breath apart. “Please? Find me food?”

 

“Five more cards,” she said, holding up the handful of cards she had left to finish. Their evenings at the library didn’t always descend into cajoling and bribery, but there had been the occasional evening where both were too absorbed in their studies (or, as was usually Zane’s case, laziness) to be bothered with food. Those evenings usually turned into a battle of wills that would make Joji and Rei proud, as it always came down to who was more stubborn and willing to wait out the other. She usually won, given his child-like impatience and short attention span.

 

“Aaaaaaamiiiiii,” he whined, dragging out the vowels in an especially annoying way. “You can finish them at home! I’m starving!”

 

“Zane Murphy, you –” she started, but he was having none of that.

 

“Star! Ving!” he enunciated, and she groaned as she rolled her eyes. When she looked back at him, he had resumed his puppy pout. “Food? Please? Preferably followed by cuddles?”

 

“What are you, five?” she snipped, and he grinned as he dashed forward to quickly land a kiss on her pouted lips.

 

“Five and a half, I like to say,” he quipped, “but only mentally. Physically I’m much, much older – and aren’t you glad?”

 

“Right now I’d be glad if you’d shut it and let me finish my studying,” she said, and he chuckled.

 

“England’s brought out the rude in you, mo chara,” he said. “I like it. You’re fiestier.”

 

“You do realize, of course, that if you had just let me finish I would have been done with these cards ten minutes ago and we could have been out of this library actually finding food to rid you of your _starving_ problem?” she asked, tossing the cards back on the table with a frustrated flourish. That mischievous glint was back, and she found herself suddenly suspicious. “…Zane.”

 

“Actually, I’m not really hungry. Just bored,” he said. He looked thoughtful for a moment. “Though, now that you mention it, I actually could grab a bite…Chinese sound good? Or I could pop in at the Tesco’s and get us some sarnies, or…Ami? What’s the look for? Ames?”

 

Her eyes had grown wide, her mouth slipping open as she gaped at him in something he wanted to call shock but looked more akin to horror. He backed up slightly, slapping his best boyish grin on as he hesitantly called her name again. She blinked, and the astonishment was suddenly gone and replaced by icy fury.

 

“Bored?!” she grit out, and he found himself trying to back up even more. Shame the arm of the sofa was blocking his path. “ _Bored?!_ ”

 

“Now, now, mo chara, remember we’re in a – yeeep!” he squeaked, scrambling over the edge of the sofa as she shrieked and tackled him. “Ok! Ok! Five more cards, just don’t –!”

 

“Get! Out!”

 

They froze, both turning their heads to see Amber – a sophomore that usually pulled the late shift at the help desk, one Ami had personally tutored through most of her Bio 210 classes last semester – shaking in barely controlled rage. Zane hated to admit it, but it wasn’t the first time she had kicked them out of the library, either. Usually because of him. Actually, usually he was the only one she was kicking out. She had a soft spot for Ami.

 

“Hey, Amber! Glad to see you! I was just trying to convince my Ami here that she needs to feed me, so don’t you think –” he tried, but the blonde was still pointing towards the exit.

 

“Out!” she snapped. “I can hear you two all the way at the front – not ok, guys, really!”

 

Ami quickly moved off of him and back to the table, her face a burning scarlet as she mumbled apologies and gathered their things. She was moving past Amber just as Zane was pulling himself off the floor, and Amber reached out to catch her shoulder.

 

“Ami, sweetie, you know I love you and would never ban you from the premises, but seriously, mate,” she said, “next time leave the pet home.”

 

Ami bit her lip and glanced back at Zane, who was spluttering like Amber had just slapped him. She looked back to her friend and grinned. The blush was fading slightly, though a nice rosy hue still stained her cheeks.

 

“Don’t worry. I will,” she said. “Good luck on your midterms next week. Zane, come on. I actually am hungry, no thanks to you.”

 

Zane watched her go, looking between Amber (who was smirking at him like he’d just been properly put in his place, which he honestly hadn’t – honestly!) and Ami (who was walking away in that expectant way that showed maybe he was just the slightest bit whipped), and huffed. He ran after her, catching up in a few loping strides before falling into step beside her, and asked, “How did I become the bad guy here?!”

 

“Quite simple,” Ami answered, not once looking at him as she pushed the doors to the outside open and strode through. “I was bored.”


	4. His Mercury

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: “His Mercury”  
> Fandom: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon  
> Prompt: 1205 (Every time)  
> Character/Pairing: King Endymion, Zoisite; Zoisite x Ami  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen  
> Word Count: 1264   
> Summary: While Tuxedo Kamen rescues Sailor Moon from Dimande, King Endymion is confronted by one of the few people left awake in the Crystal Palace.  
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.  
> Authors Notes: Crystal Tokyo/R era.

**_“His Mercury”_ **

 

“You did not tell them of us.”

 

Endymion turned his head, hiding his surprise well at the man’s silent approach. Zoisite stood in the doorway to the crystal chamber, an unreadable expression on his face. Endymion could sense his confusion, hesitation through their psychic link, but the general was doing well to shield the true extent of his emotions. He sighed and looked back to the four women forming a ring around the crystal, their hands and powers linked as they gave everything they had to the barrier around the palace. They had not moved since…

 

Zoisite’s guard dropped the slightest bit as he approached, but it was enough for Endymion to catch a glimpse at the true extent of the turmoil wracking the youngest of his Shitennou. Truly, it was the same turmoil that plagued him every time he looked at his crystal-encased queen and the same turmoil that haunted the other three every time they thought of this room and the women within. Pain. Loss. Hope. The desire to do anything to take the burden from the shoulders of the Inner soldiers, and the helplessness that came with knowing the best they could do was monitor them. Guard them. Exactly what they were doing, and exactly what they each felt was not enough in the slightest.

 

Zoisite stopped before Sailor Mercury, his expression cracking just the slightest as his hand slowly rose to her face. He hesitated just short of touching her, his hand trembling before fisting and returning to his side. His only comfort could be in seeing her; to touch her would risk her concentration, and the slightest waver in the barrier…

 

“Soon, Zoisite,” Endymion said. He reached out and clasped a hand on his shoulder, and Zoisite drew a heavy breath. “This will all end soon.”

 

“How can you be so certain?” he asked, and Endymion chuckled slightly. Zoisite shot him a perturbed stare, and the king shrugged helplessly.

 

“I have already lived one side of this war,” he said as if it were obvious. “I remember Serenity defeating the Wise Man. While I have not seen the aftermath from our side, I cannot believe it will be for worse. I remember Small Lady returning to us shortly after to complete her Senshi training, and the future she spoke of – what little she could tell us – was never bleak.”

 

“Yet you still did not tell the Senshi of the past about us,” Zoisite said, tone accusing. He looked back to his wife, his beautiful Mercury, and his guard cracked yet again. Gods, he missed her…no amount of knowing this was the right way, the only way, could make that any less true.

 

“You were spying,” Endymion said, an equal accusation in his voice, but Zoisite was unrepentant.

 

“It was my shift at the guard station,” he said. “I was the one who informed you of the breach in our security. Of course I was spying.”

 

“You know, with the others, I don’t think I’d have to make this order explicit, but with you…” Endymion looked over to him, an eyebrow raised. “You are not to interact with the Senshi of the past, Zoisite.”

 

“You say it like I was planning on running up to the past Sailor Mercury and snogging her senseless on the spot,” Zoisite quipped, and Endymion turned to fully level his incredulous look on him.

 

“And you weren’t?” he asked. Zoisite had the decency to flush.

 

“It hadn’t entirely escaped my mind,” he mumbled. “She is my a stór, after all.”

 

“Not that Mercury, Zoisite,” the king said, eyes narrowed. “Not at that time, not for a few years.”

 

“Can you honestly say you believe that, Endymion?” Zoisite asked, giving him a level stare of his own. “When you saw Sailor Moon, the younger version of your queen, can you honestly tell me there wasn’t some part of you that reached out to her? Some part that saw who she was and recognized her as who she will one day be? As a part of the queen you’re waiting so earnestly for?”

 

“That Mercury has no good memory of you, Zoisite,” Endymion said. “That Mercury only knows you as a traitor who tried to kill her and her friends. She would not trust you. If I were to tell her she eventually marries you…”

 

“I understand that, I do,” Zoisite said. “They’re too close to the events of the Dark Kingdom, and their memories have not been restored to them. But all the same…she is my Brigid as much as she is Ami. There is some part of her that is the same, that will always be the same, and that is the part I can appreciate as my love. It was the same princess I fell in love with in the Silver Millennium, the same girl I awoke to in that pub before the restoration, and the same woman I gladly married now in the Crystal Millennium. She is my Brigid every time, much as I am her Zoisite every time.”

 

As much as the king wanted to be annoyed with his old friend, he found he could not. He sighed and smiled, shaking his head as he clasped a hand on his shoulder.

 

“You’re such a goofball most of the time,” he said. “It can be easy to forget how deep you actually are.”

 

“I feel I should be insulted,” Zoisite quipped with a smirk. He looked back to Mercury then, his expression softening as he observed his wife. “I won’t approach them, my king. I know better. The surprise will be good for them, and if we clued them in now they would only be distracted from their objective.”

 

“But?” Endymion asked, seeing that look in his eyes and knowing there was more he had left unsaid.

 

“The second they’re able to come out of this spell, I’m taking her back to Mercury and we’re not returning for a month,” Zoisite said, giving him a grin. “Actually, I probably won’t even let her leave our room for a week.”

 

Endymion blinked for a moment before he choked on a laugh, and the next thing Zoisite knew his king was doubled over in body-shaking laughs. He grinned, looking back to Mercury and sighing. He leaned closer and said, “Oh dear, mo chara. I think I broke him.”

 

“Get back to your post, Zoi,” Endymion said, shoving his shoulder slightly. He grinned and nodded, winking before he teleported over to the console in the corner of the room. Endymion lifted an eyebrow at him as he leaned back in the chair, propping his feet up on the desk and resting his head on the arms tucked behind his head. Zoisite just grinned.

 

“You said get back to my post,” he said. “Jadeite had just relieved me at Security to send me down here when I showed up.”

 

Endymion gave him a look, and he shrugged.

 

“Just doing my job,” he said. Endymion rolled his eyes before a voice echoed through the room.

 

“Tuxedo Kamen has returned with Sailor Moon from Dimande’s fortress,” Jadeite’s voice said. “They are awaiting you with the other Senshi, sire.”

 

“Thank you, Jadeite,” Endymion said, knowing the Shitennou would hear him. He turned back to Zoisite, ready to say something else, but the Northern King just waved him off.

 

“Go, already,” he said. “I’ve got this covered here. And the sooner you get them home and out of here, the sooner our girls come back. So get going already.”

 

Endymion shook his head, smiling slightly as he left the crystal chamber.


	5. Three A.M.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: “Three A.M.”  
> Fandom: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon  
> Prompt: 1008 (Intentions)  
> Character/Pairing: Mizuno Ami, Zoisite/Zane Murphy; Zoisite x Ami  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen  
> Word Count: 1946  
> Summary: They had all agreed to give the girls time, and originally Zane had every intention to follow through on that. He just hadn’t thought she’d take so dang long about it.  
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.  
> Authors Notes: Pre-Crystal Tokyo. The lyrics blocking off the fic are from “Perfect In Your Eyes”, a wonderful little tune from Russell Crowe and Alan Doyle.

**_“Three A.M.”_ **

 

_before, I laughed ‘cause you would, too_

_I prayed to God in Sacre Coeur / I promised Him I’d live_

_you shambled about with those shiny things / you redefined ‘forgive’_

_and before, I came apart from you / and before, I made you cry_

_and before, I broke my heart in two / when I was perfect in your eyes_

_perfect in your eyes…_

 

When the Irishman had shown up at Joji’s flat earlier that evening, the usually reserved priest had not imagined his night ending like this. He had figured he’d receive a call a few hours later, probably from some bartender who wanted him to fetch his inebriated friend, but he had never imagined that call would be from the very woman he was attempting to (and failing to) woo. He definitely hadn’t imagined the call being along the lines of a barely hissed out, “Come get him _now_ or you won’t be waking up in the morning.”

 

Given the miko in question, he wouldn’t put burning his flat down in the middle of the night past her.

 

Which is what found him at the top of the steps of the Hikawa Shrine at three in the morning, trying to forcibly remove a very drunk, very agitated Zane Murphy from the premises. Rei stood across from them, standing defensively before her blue-haired friend and glaring bloody murder at Zane.

 

“Get him out of here, Tanaka!” Rei snapped, and if Joji didn’t know better he would have sworn he saw sparks fly from the fingertips of the hand pushing Ami back.

 

“I’m trying!” Joji called, raising his voice louder than was appropriate for three in the morning – but Zane was leaving him little choice in the matter, what with how loud he was being. “Zane, man, come on! Before someone calls the cops! I am not bailing your ass out of jail this time!”

 

“I’m not leaving ‘til she talks to me!” Zane answered, and Joji rolled his eyes.

 

“And why should she when it’s guaranteed you’ve put yourself in a state to not even remember the conversation in the morning?!” he asked. He tugged his arm again, growling when the man wouldn’t budge. For someone who had probably consumed more than his weight in alcohol (Joji had seen him drink on a good day and known the results to be bad; he’d hate to think of the bender he’d gone on when something actually _bad_ happened), Zane was incredibly resistant. From the ruckus he could hear in the background of Rei’s call, he had been expecting an easy retrieval; not this nightmare Zane was putting up.

 

“Come on, Zane,” he said, opting for a different approach. He laid a hand on Zane’s shoulder, and the Irishman turned glassy green eyes on him. He looked so desperate, so lost – and it tore at a part of him – the part that was in the same boat, desperately seeking forgiveness and acceptance from a woman who really had no reason to grant it – but he was sick of the drunken escapades. “We said we’d give them time and space. This is not doing that.”

 

Zane whipped about then, turning a pleading gaze on Ami. She wasn’t looking at him. Actually, her back was turned to the whole scene, but Joji could tell from the way she was shaking how distressed she was by the whole matter. From what he’d come to know of her in this life, and what he had known of her before, he wasn’t surprised. She didn’t seem the type to appreciate confrontation, and when that confrontation was in the form of a pissed Irishman declaring his love or whatever the hell Zane had thought he was doing at three in the morning…and glancing at Rei, he was suddenly impressed by his fire miko’s control; he would have expected her to have blasted Zane long before now, given the state of her friend.

 

“I gave her time! I gave her space! Bloody hell, Jo, what’cha think I’ve been doing all week?!” Zane asked, glaring at him. Joji wanted to point out that that was the point, that it had only been a week since they’d reentered the girls’ lives, but Zane wasn’t paying him any attention. He looked back to Rei, his bleary eyes sliding past her to land on Ami, and he suddenly seemed to deflate. “I’ve apologized. I’ve pestered. I’ve left her the hell alone. I’ve done everything I possibly could, and it’s still not good enough! The hell do you want, Ami?! What else can I do?! We both know you’re going to forgive me and we’re going to get to putting this whole mess behind us, so why can’t you just do it so we can get to the happily ever aftering already?!”

 

“Zane!” the shout came from Rei and Joji, both scolding and furious. Joji’s grip tightened on his arm, and he tugged him again.

 

“We’re leaving – _now_ ,” he hissed, “before you shove that foot any further up your mouth!”

 

“I miss you, mo chroí,” Zane mumbled, his words coming out more slurred as his energy seemed to leave him. He was deflating like a balloon, and Joji soon found he was having to fully support the idiot. “And I’m so confused, and lost, and I don’t know what else to do to make you see how very, very _sorry_ I am. I’m sorry, Ami. I’m so, so sorry…”

 

“Leave, Zane,” Rei said, her voice firm. “Now.”

 

Joji was about to haul him away, convinced the gusto had finally left his friend and he would come willingly, when Rei drew his attention again. She was asking Ami something, sounding frustrated, and he soon saw why: Ami began moving towards them, her steps steady and measured but her face looking so torn. Still, there was a grim set to her jaw and a determination in her eyes; it was the look of a Senshi, of a warrior who had a mission to complete. She stopped before them and placed her hands on Zane’s face, lifting it up to look at her. He seemed confused at first, but then hope began blossoming in his eyes like a child on Christmas – until she firmly squashed it.

 

“You’re drunk,” she said, her voice firm, “so you’re going to let Tanaka-san take you home, and you’re going to sleep this off, and we’re all going to forget this ever happened.”

 

“A-” he started, but she hushed him with a finger placed firmly against his lips. He swallowed thickly, and Joji wondered if he would further emasculate himself by crying. At this point, it wouldn’t surprise him. He would already have a hell of a lot of damage control to do come morning.

 

“You’ve done everything you can, Za…Zoi…” she paused, looking down as she drew in a shaky breath. Zane looked like she was killing him, like he wanted nothing more than to gather her up in his arms and hold her as she cried. Looking over at Rei, at the tormented look in her own eyes, Joji couldn’t say he disagreed with the sentiment. But the ball was in the girls’ court, now, and they were powerless to do anything until the girls made their move. When you were seeking penance, that was the only thing you could do – and Ami was kind enough to let Zane know it. “There’s nothing more you can do, and you’re right. I will forgive you. I just can’t now. And you need to let me process this, to heal, and then I’ll find you. I promise you, Zoisite. I just need time.”

 

“But it’s not just you, is it?” the dejected man asked blearily. “Aye, I’m the one who fucked up, but it’s not just you. And doing this apart from you…it’s so hard, mo chroí. I need you. I need you to forgive me. I need you to forgive me sos I can forgive myself. I…I…”

 

His head fell, and Joji saw tears sliding down his cheeks as he grit out, “I’m an insensitive bastard who doesn’t deserve a second thought, let alone a chance. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

 

“I was wrong,” Ami mused, and Zane looked up in surprise to find her smiling slightly. It was barely there, the ghost of it barely curling the edge of her lips, but it was still a smile. She moved into Zane’s space, pressing herself against him as her arms encircled him in a hug. Joji stood awkwardly to the side, still trying to support the drunk so he didn’t complete squash the woman. “Maybe there was more you could have said. I’m sorry, too, but…you need to…”

 

She looked down, her face burying in his shoulder as she took a deep breath. He smelled of cheap beer and smoke and nothing at all like the Zoisite she remembered, and she didn’t like it. But he was still there and solid and blessedly real, and she found that was the part that was steadily weakening her resolve. He murmured something in her ear, slurred speech in a tongue she barely recognized, and she felt him grow heavier. She sighed and held him tighter, her resolve crumbling.

 

“Tanaka-san, I don’t live too far from here,” she said, looking over to Joji. He lifted an eyebrow at her, and he was amused to see her face burning scarlet in the moonlight. “Can you…can you help me…?”

 

“What happened to needing time to process, Mizuno-san?” he asked, and she sighed as Rei walked up beside her. Joji was ninety percent sure Zane had already passed out.

 

“Ami, sweetheart, are you sure?” Rei asked, touching her shoulder, and Ami gave her a helpless sort of smile.

 

“No,” she said, “but he’s right, isn’t he? I’ve been telling myself this is something I need to do alone, thinking only of how his betrayal affected _me_ …I never stopped to think of the hell it was putting him through. How brave he had to be just to approach Mamoru or me in the first place. And he’s right, Rei. This…I need to process it, yes, but we need to do it together. Don’t you see? That’s the only way we can heal.”

 

She glanced over at him, and Joji gave her an appreciative smile as he caught the meaning in her words. He looked over to Rei, but she was glaring off in the distance. He sighed. Stubborn as ever.

 

“That’s the only way any of us can heal,” Ami said. She shifted her grip on Zane, and the drunk sighed out her name in his sleep. Her face burned a little brighter, and Joji smiled as he pulled him back into his grip.

 

“I’ll take his shoulders. Grab his feet and lead the way,” he said. He paused at the top of the temple steps, looking back to Rei as Ami apologized again for the disruption.

 

“Hino-san…” he called, and she shot him an annoyed look. The question was there on his face, but it was not one he felt he could vocalize. He still didn’t think he had a right, if he was being honest, but Zane’s (rather impulsive, foolhardy) idea had emboldened him.

 

“Oh, fine! Be here at noon, and I swear to all that is holy if you’re one second late I’m not talking to you for a year!” Rei huffed, twirling around in a flare of hair and robes as she stomped back into the temple. Joji gawked after her, flabbergasted by her response, before Ami’s giggle drew him out of his stupor. He looked back at her, an insuppressible grin quirking his lips.

 

“I’ll be damned,” he mused, and Ami laughed again, more openly this time, as she began to descend the stairs.

 

“Somehow I feel that’s more accurate than you should like,” she quipped, but he just smiled. Maybe Zane’s impulsiveness hadn’t been an entire waste…didn’t keep him from ‘accidentally’ bumping the drunk’s head into a lamppost a few times, though. It was still three…nearly four in the morning, after all.

 

_before, I drank and drown / before, I let you down_

_before, I told you lies_

_if you told me to go chasing tornadoes / I’d saddle up and ride_

_perfect in your eyes, my love / present in your mind_

_welcome in your life, my love / when I was perfect in your eyes_

_perfect in your eyes…_


	6. Twisted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: “Twisted”  
> Fandom: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon  
> Prompt: 502 (Darkness)  
> Character/Pairing: Mizuno Ami, Zoisite/Zane Murphy; Zoisite x Ami  
> Rating: K+ / PG / All Ages  
> Word Count: 2,301   
> Summary: He didn’t know what Beryl had been playing at, this time around. Maybe she thought she could strike out against the Moon Princess better, hurt her more if she captured and brainwashed her personal guard this time instead.  
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.  
> Authors Notes: Silver Millennium/Sailor Moon. I’m sure everyone and their granma’s cat has done this idea at least once in the past twenty years, but I wanted a go, too?

**_“Twisted”_ **

 

The howl of a cat in a nearby alley made him jump, and Zane scowled as he watched it bolt from the alley with a small dog hot on its tail. He shoved his hands further in his pockets and moved on. At least the damn thing didn’t have a crescent-shaped bald spot adorning its forehead.

 

Life had been so much easier three months back, before his dad had gotten that transfer to a university in Tokyo and had relocated the entire family from their happy home in Cork. Back before he’d taken that college prep course and had his face slammed into a monitor by some crazy red-skinned youma. Back before he even knew what a youma was. Now it was all just fucked up, and he was getting sick of it.

 

He hadn’t asked for this life. Actually, last he’d checked, he hadn’t asked for any kind of life. He had ambled along most of his seventeen years, completely brilliant but lacking the ‘motivation’ or ‘drive’ to really do anything with it. He was content to piss off his teachers as he lazed about the back of the class during their lessons, flouting his brilliance in their faces through his homework and exams. He didn’t really care to ‘apply himself’ beyond that, though. At least those were always the keywords his parents and counsellors used when trying to encourage him to ‘be all that he could be’ – or was that the American army? Sod all if he knew or cared. And then came Tokyo, and that chance run-in with Tsukino Usagi and her stupid cat, and the next thing he knew he had purpose. Drive. Ambition. Warring with his fuck-all lazy bastard attitude that had only amplified with reincarnation. And now where was he?

 

Tsukino Usagi wasn’t only Sailor Moon, but she was Princess Serenity. Chiba Mamoru wasn’t only Tuxedo Kamen, but he was Prince Endymion – that wanker the other Kings and he had spent the past three months desperately trying to locate hiding right under their fucking noses. And the Senshi? The other ‘Sailors’ that were supposed to be fighting alongside Moon?

 

He paused in his walk, hands fisting tightly in his pockets. Luna had been trying to locate them when she had stumbled upon…well, _them_ instead. And as it turned out, that blasted witch bitch had been searching just as earnestly. Finding the Senshi had become almost as important as locating the Earth Prince and Moon Princess, and they had found themselves in a losing race against Beryl. Luna had barely awakened Sailor Moon, had barely stumbled upon Joji, when one Hino Rei had been abducted from a local shrine. Kino Makoto went next, quickly followed by…

 

It didn’t help that with the return of his Prince came a return of…well, more unsavory memories. It was easy enough accepting that you were the reincarnated warrior king of an age long since past. It was a little harder when you actually remembered the tragic details of said age.

 

He forced out an agitated breath and dug a cigarette out of his pocket. He quickly lit it and took a long drag, but any relaxation the nicotine offered immediately vanished when he heard the boots clicking behind him.

 

“I would say those things will kill you,” came the achingly familiar, sickeningly sweet, and blastedly _wrong_ voice behind him. Now that he could remember her, the perverted puppet parading around in her body just made him sick. “If I wasn’t planning on doing that myself.”

 

He chucked the cigarette to the ground and stamped it out. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes before he turned to face her. He opened them when he raised his head, and he almost wished he hadn’t.

 

He didn’t know what Beryl had been playing at this time around. Maybe she had been disappointed with the service of the Shitennou puppets in the Silver Millennium. Maybe she thought she could strike out against the Moon Princess better, hurt her more if she captured and brainwashed her personal guard this time instead. (And Selene above how he hated to think that, remembering all too well the torture and anguish and assault Beryl had put them through before in her efforts to turn them. The Shitennou hadn’t gone down without a fight, but they had been at their strongest back then. How much easier had it been for Beryl to corrupt the girls, catching them before they had even remembered their true identities?) Maybe she was just a sick, twisted fuck and had gone after whoever she could have acquired easiest. Selene only knows why the forces of evil do the crazy shit they do.

 

“Don’t you know it’s dangerous to walk alone at night, peacock?” she asked, her lips curling as she walked closer. She stopped before him, her smile so different yet so similar to the one he remembered, and he swallowed thickly as she raised a gloved hand and brushed it against his cheek. The sooty gray of her fuku wasn’t right, and it clashed against the black-streaked blue in a way the pristine white never had.

 

“You and I both know I can handle myself,” he said, voice tense. His eyes flashed dangerously as they locked on her own, and he practically growled her name out. “Brigid.”

 

Her hand tensed against his cheek, her fingertips pressing against his skin with a hostile edge. Her eyes narrowed at the name, and he knew he had struck a nerve. She had been referring to herself by her planetary name the whole time he had known her in this life…how long had it been since anyone had called her by her proper name? Her true name?

 

“Do you even remember me, mo chara?” he asked, and like a flash her hand wrapped around his throat, holding just tight enough to remind him she was a very real threat. Not enough to block off his air or pose any danger, but enough to remind him he was toeing a very thin line and she could turn deadly at the slightest whim. “I remember you. This…isn’t you. I pursued you two years before you even let me touch your hand outside a formal dance. Where’s my timid little nymph, eh?”

 

“That fool of a mouse is gone,” she said, her voice grating. “She was weak and pathetic, and she died like the cowering child she was. I have been reborn stronger. I will not take such insolence from the likes of you, Zoisite.”

 

She was fast, but so was he. He lashed out with his arm, breaking her hold on his neck and pinning her arms to her sides. He stepped closer, towering over her and invading every bit of personal space she had. Her eyes flashed up at him, but he refused to look away. Refused to acknowledge that she was lost to him.

 

Hadn’t she fought just as viciously for his own return, back then?

 

“Stop this foolishness,” he said. “This isn’t you, Brigid. This is Beryl. This is her darkness polluting you.”

 

His grip tightened, and he wondered if her arms would be marked once they got out of this. If she still bruised as easily as she had before. She grit her teeth and stood taller, pride and defiance radiating from her like twin poisons.

 

“Fight her,” he ordered. “Fight her and return to me. I know you can, mo chara. Renounce the darkness and return as Mercury. Your Princess needs you. I need you.”

 

He leaned closer then, pressing his lips to her own in a desperate sort of kiss. She tried to scream, fight him off, but he was relentless. One hand tightened its grip on her arm, but the other slid up to cup her cheek, holding her face in place. Her eyes shot open at the strangely delicate touch, and her entire body tensed as cracks began to form in her walls.

 

_That first afternoon, hiding a giggle as the youngest of the Terran prince’s guard tripped over the step leaving the shuttle. The sheepish blush that stained his cheeks, only to vanish when he caught her eye – caught her amusement – and shot her a cocky smirk to hide his embarrassment. The suave air he carried about him the rest of that first meeting, faltering only slightly when she led them to their rooms and bid him a good evening, saying she looked forward to seeing him at dinner. He tripped over the threshold then, too._

_The first dance, when he tried to engage her in conversation but protocol and natural shyness prevented her from being too open. How he wouldn’t stop, adamantly pursuing her time and again until that night she found him in the gardens._

_How he glowed surrounded by Coci’s lightning bugs, her favorite import from the blue planet below. The look of joy as she approached him, taking his hand of her own volition for the first time in the two years he’d known her. The burn of her cheeks as she told him how perplexing she found him. The burn of something else as he told her he wanted to spend forever perplexing her._

_That feeling of floating the first time he kissed her. The way he didn’t press until she stepped closer, and then it was like there was nothing holding either of them back. The way the stone of the garden wall cut into her back as he pressed her against it, contrasted so exquisitely with the softness of his hand as he cradled her head. The little noises he made when she tangled her hands in his hair. The feeling of loss when he pulled away._

_How complete she felt the moment their bond was formed, that permanent link shared by lifemates that allowed her to always feel his presence. The sense of wholeness as his aura encompassed her own. How he felt like home._

_That physical pain the moment it severed, only made worse the next time she saw him striding towards her with the blade of a Dark Kingdom general glinting in the Earthlight. Only made worse when that same blade drove through her chest, staining his wrong uniform with her blood. The warmth of tears mingling with blood as her life left her._

“N-n-no!” she gasped, shoving him back as panic flooded her system. “No!”

 

He stumbled back, arms raised as if he wanted to grab her again, but the look on her face gave him pause. Tears were streaming from her eyes, and her fingers pressed against her lips as if she were trying to rub his kiss from them. Her eyes skittered about the street, as if searching for an escape and landing on anything but him. He called her name again, and when her gaze locked on him he suddenly wished she would go back to avoiding him.

 

“You need me?” she asked, her voice gasping as a breathy laugh escaped her. “ _You_ need _me_? _I_ needed _you_!”

 

He cursed and leapt back as she lunged at him, transforming in a blink and drawing his sword to deflect the frozen blade she slashed at him. Tears were flooding her eyes, spilling over the edges and flowing down her cheeks as those impossible ocean eyes glared anguish at him. He tried to interrupt, call her attention, but she was in a frenzy he could not stop.

 

“How dare you! How dare you try to sway me because _you need me!_ Did you not once consider the opposite back then? We were bonded! Did you not once think of how it killed me to feel that connection break? How I died when I thought you dead?! Did you not once think of resisting the darkness because _I_ needed _you_?!”

 

“Always,” he grunted as he deflected her blade again. “Every damn day, Brigid. I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough. She broke me, as she broke you –”

 

“Lies! She did not break me – she made me stronger!” Mercury cried, and Zoisite cursed as she managed to get past his blocks and slashed his arm. He stumbled back a few steps, clutching at his arm, and he shouted as she kicked his feet out from under him. The next thing he knew he was on his back, and her blade was pointed at his neck. He swallowed thickly and looked up at her eyes, clouded with shadows again and so fiercely murderous.

 

“Brigid –” he tried, but she pressed her blade against his skin just enough to draw a point of blood. Just enough to silence him.

 

“Brigid is dead,” she seethed. “Died in the bowels of the Earth like the whimpering coward she was. I am Mercury, loyal servant of Queen Beryl. I am strong, and you may need me, Zoisite, but hear this: _I do not need you._ ”

 

She pulled the blade away and delivered a swift kick to his side. He shouted at the force, so much stronger than he was expecting, and gasped as she vanished. He laid back on the ground, gasping for breath as his uniform faded from him. He stared at the stars, wishing for once they would provide him with the same comfort they so readily offered Nate.

 

He closed his eyes when they remained silent as ever and took a deep breath.

 

Brigid was gone, but there was hope. He had to believe that. Because maybe she didn’t need him – not like he did her, not anymore – but…she hadn’t been able to kill him, either. Whether by choice or inability, she had not killed him. And that had to mean something…right?

 

He recalled the darkness clouding her eyes, marring the shining beauty he had once known, and clung to that hope. He had to believe it. He had to.


	7. Awakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: “Awakening”  
> Fandom: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon  
> Prompt: 909 (Never Again)  
> Character/Pairing: Kunzite/Kassim Kadar, Mizuno Ami, Urawa Ryo, Zoisite/Zane Murphy; Ryo x Ami, Zoisite x Ami  
> Rating: M / PG-16 / Teen  
> Word Count: 7,758   
> Summary: His life was ok until about a week ago, when suddenly the dam opened and every memory of a past life came rushing through.  
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.  
> Authors Notes: Silver Millennium, college/pre-Crystal Tokyo. I grew up with that generation who thought Zoisite was a woman for most of our childhood (heeeey, DiC dubs!), so when I first got into BSSM I was a Ryo x Ami shipper. (Zoi has since won me over, and I kinda feel silly shipping Ryo x Ami now. They just…I dunno. It’s like having cheesecake, right, and your whole life you’ve had this cheesecake and it’s so good and you just love it – until fall comes and you’re introduced to the magical confection that is pumpkin cheesecake, and you wonder how regular ol’ cheesecake ever seemed so amazing in the first place. Ryo x Ami still has kind of a soft spot in my heart, but the vainglorious peacock has won me over.) Also…this one so ran away from me, and I swear I had the theme in mind when I started it, and now it’s kind of a “squint and you’ll see it” relevance, I guess? I have no idea. Senior year is frying my brain (and I should really be working on my thesis or my integrative class’s reading right now, but meh…)
> 
> Translation Note  
> mo chroí – ‘my heart’  
> gráim thú – ‘I love you’  
> go síoraí – ‘forever’

**_“Awakening”_ **

 

“Princess, you should not be out here!”

 

Zoisite’s eyes narrowed as he slipped back into the shadows. Princess Brigid of Mercury spun around, her back now to him, but not before he saw the eager light in her eyes. He could see that light fading in his mind as she realized he was not the one walking towards her. He glared at the young Mercurian soldier approaching the princess; the boy had been posing a problem lately. He knew the young man was only doing his job as the princess’s personal guard, but that didn’t make Zoisite like him any more. His name was Bunbo, an idiot if well-intentioned boy (and those were always the worst, in his opinion; he had seen too many of his type die needlessly on the battlefield). His father was the Captain of the Guard on Mercury, and he had grown up beside Brigid. They were old friends, and while he was merely a soldier his father’s rank gave him status enough to be considered nobility. To most on Mercury, he was probably the best choice as the princess’s future husband.

 

Most on Mercury didn’t know a Terran king was busy courting their princess. As far as most on Mercury were concerned, the peace talks had failed when the Shadow had appeared on Terra, so the idea of a Terran king pursuing their princess wasn’t even a possibility.

 

His hand fisted on the hilt of his sword at the thought. He couldn’t wait for this blasted war to be over so he could prove them wrong.

 

“Bunbo, it’s all right,” Brigid said, her voice affectionate but slightly exasperated. Zoisite smirked as he saw Bunbo stop next to her, a concerned look fixed on his face.

 

“It is not, Bri…Princess Brigid! It is my sworn duty to protect you, and I can’t do that if you keep sneaking off! You’re getting as bad as Princess Serenity – I’d start to wonder if there was some scandalous affair you were trying to conceal if I didn’t know you better!” the concern melted to teasing by the end of his rant, and Brigid laughed nervously as he grinned at her. “But you and I both know you’re too smart to get caught up in something so frivolous – especially with a Terran! I’d almost feel bad for the Princess if I didn’t know how treacherous those Terrans actually are! Now that communication with Terra has been cut off, hopefully the Princess can get over her crush and things can get back to normal around here.”

 

“Bunbo,” Brigid said, her tone exasperated, “you shouldn’t say such things. Princess Serenity did not have a simple ‘crush’ on Prince Endymion, and the Terrans are not treacherous – they are at war with a great evil who is trying to corrupt the populace against the Alliance. There are still good people on that planet, and we cannot abandon them to fight this evil on their own.”

 

“You’re starting to sound like a sympathizer,” Bunbo said, but he sighed as he raked a hand through his brown hair. “I’m sorry, Brigid. I know you desire peace more than anything, but I do not think it will be that simple with the Terrans. And…I worry about you. You know how much I care about you.”

 

“And I care about you, too, Bunbo,” she said. She took his hand and smiled. “You’re my oldest and dearest friend.”

 

Zoisite’s grin widened as he saw the way Bunbo winced at her phrasing. The boy’s affection was plain as the sun on his face. ‘Friend’ was not the word he had been hoping for, yet the title he desperately wanted had already been claimed by another quite some time ago.

 

“Besides, am I not a Senshi?” Brigid asked, winking at Bunbo. “I may not be the strongest, but I’ve still proven myself as part of the Princess’s guard. I can take care of myself – you need not worry so.”

 

“I will always worry over you, Brigid,” Bunbo said, and she sighed.

 

“I know,” she said. She glanced back to the trees, and Zoisite knew she was searching for him. She looked back to Bunbo and lightly pushed his shoulder. “Now go. I believe Queen Selenity was calling a meeting for the commanding officers. That includes you now, you know.”

 

“Come with me,” he pleaded, grabbing her hand. “Please. There have been reports of spies, Brigid. I know you can defend yourself, but I would feel safer if you were where I could see you.”

 

“I will be fine,” she sighed, nudging him again. “Now _go_.”

 

Bunbo gave her one last long, studying look before he turned and walked back into the palace. Brigid turned back to the dark garden, her teeth worrying her lower lip as she tried to locate the one she had been waiting for. Zoisite’s smile softened as he chuckled; she looked so eager, like a child on Solstice morning.

 

“You do him no service leading him on as you do, mo chara,” he said, stepping out of the shadows. She gasped as he stepped into the earthlight, her expression seeming to come alive as he appeared. She ran towards him, and he laughed as he caught her in his arms. He spun her around, pulling her close when he set her down. He buried his face in her cropped hair, breathing deeply the light floral scent that mixed with something that was so undeniably _her_.

 

“He is an old friend with a childhood crush,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest. “It will fade in time. When this ridiculous war is over and we no longer have to keep to secret liaisons and shadows…”

 

“I fear it will not be that simple,” he sighed. She started to pull away, to question him, but he shook his head and brought her closer. “No, mo chara. Just let me hold you, just a little longer. We can discuss the war later. Tonight…”

 

“You’re scaring me, Zoisite,” she whispered, and he pressed his lips to her temple.

 

“I apologize, mo chara,” he said. “I do not mean…it’s just his sentiments. He is not the only one who thinks that way. The risk we all take, the Prince and Princess, my brothers and your sisters, you and I…I know the Queen approves and is doing her best to deflect attention, but not everyone so eagerly dreams of a future where peace reigns and Terra is securely part of the Alliance. Where our love is no longer forbidden because of idiotic fears and prejudices.”

 

“Zoisite, do you love me?” she asked quietly, and he jerked back as if burned. He stared at her through pained eyes, horrified that she could ever ask him such a thing.

 

“Of course! Mo chara, Brigid…you know I do! You hold my heart, you _are_ mo chroí, and nothing could ever change that! Never, ever question –” he began to rant, and she giggled lightly as she pressed a delicate finger to his lips. He sighed, instantly calming as his eyes closed. His lips pressed against her finger in a feather-light kiss, and she smiled as she moved her hand to cup his cheek.

 

“Then believe in that love, and in the love of our friends’, and believe it will be enough to make everyone else in the Alliance and on Terra see,” she said. “Believe that one day this will all be over and we will be free to enjoy that love without the secrets and constant threats of destruction.”

 

“God above,” he breathed, leaning his face into her palm, “how am I supposed to go on without you?”

 

“Zoisite?” she asked, confused, and he sighed as he looked down at her.

 

“Mo chara, why I asked you to meet me on such short notice…why it had to be tonight…there’s trouble,” he said, and her eyes hardened as the years of training kicked in and she instantly switched into battle mode. “Nephrite and Jadeite have gone missing.”

 

“What?” she gasped, surprise breaking through her warrior’s mask, and he nodded grimly.

 

“They left on a reconnaissance mission to the Far North. I should have gone with them, as it is part of my kingdom and I know it best, but…they said they would be fine, and I was needed at Command,” Zoisite looked back to his home world hanging in the distance as he said this, and she saw the guilt flickering in his eyes. “We lost communication with them two days ago. I leave tomorrow with a search party.”

 

“You will find them, and you will return safely to me,” she said, nodding in determination. He could see she was sure of it, and yet he found he could not quite believe her words. An uneasy feeling had settled in his stomach for the past two days, a sort of mental screaming taking residence in the back of his mind, and it caused him to doubt the surety of anything. Seeing the doubt still plaguing his eyes, she reached up and pulled his face down to hers. She pressed her lips against his own in a fierce, commanding sort of kiss, and the passion behind it took him off guard. He was so used to her being the shy, reserved one, the perfect picture of a demure princess…he found the demand in her kiss sparked something in him, and she gasped as he crushed her against him. They clung desperately to each other, a sudden fear overtaking them both: that sense of finality that came with a last kiss, a plea for just one more…

 

When he pulled back, they were both short of breath. Her lips were beautifully swollen, and his heart nearly broke at the glassy-eyed look of desire on her face. What he wouldn’t give to stay here, wrapped in her arms and her kiss for the rest of his days…to not march out away from her on the morrow, knowing full well he may never see her again.

 

“Gráim thú,” she whispered, and his eyes closed as her voice speaking his native tongue – speaking those words he had taught her so long ago now in the language he knew dearest – washed over him. It was a balm on his troubled soul, and he found himself leaning in for one more gentle, reassuring kiss.

 

“Go síoraí,” he vowed, and she claimed one final kiss before he tore himself away, knowing that if he did not leave then he would never have the strength to.

 

With his back turned on his princess, he did not see the seething look of the Mercurian soldier hidden behind a column of the palace boring into his back. With her back turned to the palace, her eyes watching him go until he had vanished from her sight, she did not see her old friend retreat into the shadows.

 

– V –

 

The Far North was a desolate waste land, frozen over by snow and ice and kept that way by the freezing winds and lack of sun. There was no life there. The systems had to be wrong, and the energy was a blip. A fluke. A bug in the system. They had sent their brothers to this place on an erroneous reading, and they had most likely frozen to death before they could get a report back saying it was all clear.

 

The Far North was a desolate waste land, and so they did not expect the attack when it came.

 

– V –

 

Another explosion rocked the palace, and a wicked grin curled his lips as he saw her stumble mid-stride. She quickly regained her footing and continued along the hall, refusing to lose sight of her objective. He watched as she tapped her earring, the blue visor activating to cover her eyes.

 

He heard a scream behind him somewhere, an almighty roar as thunder boomed amidst the sounds of death. He glanced behind him, taking his eyes off the Sailor of Mercury long enough to find Jupiter’s Senshi standing tall, a herculean beast taking down youma after youma. His grin turned wicked as he saw Bunbo, the foolish Mercurian who had sought out Queen Beryl in an attempt to save the woman he loved from the evil that was Terra (only to be captured and twisted into one of the Queen’s strongest shadow brutes), get blasted back. The foolhardy shadow landed on a jagged pillar, and if the electricity from the Jovian princess hadn’t killed him the rock spearing through his abdomen certainly had. Sailor Jupiter did not pause to mourn the loss of the warrior – truly, probably didn’t even recognize him for the guard he previously was – and only continued her onslaught. Until Nephrite approached her. Hope, just the briefest flash of it, sparked in her eyes before he lunged at her with a sword, but suddenly the warrior could not regain her footing. His Queen had been right: sending them in to fight against the Senshi had been a brilliant idea. There was no way the women could fight against them; they would be helpless, easy pickings as Queen Beryl’s forces routed the Moon.

 

Another scream, and his eyes grew crazed as a wave of accomplishment and pride flooded across the mental link shared with his brothers. Sailor Jupiter was dead. Sailor Venus, the leader of the Inner Senshi, was not long behind her.

 

He looked back to Sailor Mercury, the weakest of them all, to find she had frozen. She had been sequestered away while the rest of them had rushed out to the front lines, probably hiding in her command center or some other cowardly notion while the others raced out to their deaths. She had been nowhere to be seen until Sailor Venus had given the command to assist the Princess. He heard a shout behind him, and he saw Sailor Mercury turn slowly, as if her body was made of lead, to see the bodies of Prince Endymion and Princess Serenity rising a distance behind him. He heard Queen Beryl’s victorious laughter ringing out over the battlefield, and he smirked as he saw Sailor Mercury’s terrified eyes lift. Up, up, from the corpses of her beloved royals to where he floated in the air, lounging imperiously above the surface of the Moon. Her eyes widened as a new terror stole over her, and he watched in a sadistic sort of glee as she took in the gray uniform of the Dark Kingdom.

 

“It’s over, little one,” he said, lowering himself to the ground. His boots clicked against the stone, and his grin turned malicious. “You know you’re the only one left. Surrender now and perhaps I’ll spare you.”

 

He lifted a hand, a dark crystal forming above his open palm. She took a step back, her entire body shaking as she took him in. Oh, but he loved that look of pure, unadulterated _fear_ on her beautiful little face…

 

“Z…Zoisite?” she asked, the words stammering out as she swallowed thickly. “Th-they said you were dead…”

 

“Clearly you’ve been misinformed,” he chuckled, taking a step closer. She did not retreat at his approach. And his eyes narrowed. “What say you, princess? Care to surrender?”

 

“Zoisite, what are you…why are you dressed like that, love? Why are you…” her questions were cut short as he clicked his tongue.

 

“No? All right,” he said, tired of her pathetic, mousey act. “I’ll make this quick, then.”

 

He lunged at her, and she screamed as she barely tumbled out of the way in time. The grin on his face was bloodthirsty and maniacal as he chased after her. She had resumed running, refusing to fight him – and he would be having none of that. His brothers had already gotten their kills, and where was the fun if he didn’t get the blood promised him?

 

“You can’t escape me, little one!” he crowed, and he grinned as she tripped on a piece of rubble. He teleported, appearing behind her as she tried to recover her gait. He reached out and grabbed her, pulling her back against his chest. She began to struggle, and he laughed as he tightened his hold on her. She suddenly stopped, and he chuckled darkly as he formed another crystal in his hand. He drug it along her abdomen, snickering as a whimper escaped her.

 

“Are you afraid, little one?” he asked, turning his face into her hair and inhaling deeply. The scent…it was intoxicatingly familiar…

 

“…were you?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. He paused, the sharp tip of the crystal poking underneath her bow, and looked at her.

 

“What?” he asked, and he saw tears in her eyes as she stared ahead. There was something almost lifeless, defeated about the way she stood there.

 

“You were afraid of what would happen when you left me,” she said, her voice still quiet. “Were you afraid, Zoisite, when she found you?”

 

“I did not fear my Queen,” he hissed, poking the crystal against her. Her eyes closed, and she reached up to touch her hands to his face. They were frigid, like ice…

 

“Did you fear losing me?” she asked, and the question was enough to give him pause. Losing…losing…her hands tightened against his face, and his eyes widened as he felt the chill spread across his cheeks. “I was afraid. I did not tell you, because I knew you were, as well, but I was afraid you were right. I’m sorry, Zoisite. Gráim thú.”

 

He screamed as a freezing, blue light spread from her hands, encompassing them in a blinding flash. Instinctively he withdrew his hands, trying to shield his eyes – but he had forgotten how close his hand was to her heart, and the jerking reaction slipped the point of the crystal through her chest. He stumbled back, releasing her as he covered his face with his hands. His hands…his hands…why were they wet? Why…

 

He lowered them, emerald eyes widening as he took in the sight of blood on the white gloves. He looked up, confusion clouding his mind as he saw the destruction around him – and then he heard the labored breathing, shallow breaths forcing air into lungs that sounded like they were drowning. He looked down, and he felt his world fall out from under him.

 

“BRIGID!” he screamed, dropping to his knees beside her. His hands hovered over her, panicked eyes taking in the blood that was seeping onto her white fuku. Her blood…there was too much of it, and as he raised his eyes he saw why: the shard of dark crystal, poking out of where it had slid between her ribs and into her chest.

 

“Z…Zoi…” she gasped, eyes bleary and unfocused. He grabbed her hand, squeezing it reassuringly as he brushed her damp hair from her face.

 

“I’m here, mo chara,” he said, scooting closer. “I’m here. Oh, God…what…mo chara, what have I done?”

 

“Q-Queen Sele…she’s helped me…healing…I’m glad it worked,” Mercury gasped, and Zoisite’s eyes crinkled in confusion as he continued to stroke her hair.

 

“Mo chara, what are you…no, no, Brigid, stay with me. Hey, open those gorgeous eyes…let me see your eyes, Brigid,” he ordered, brushing a thumb against her cheek to chase away a tear.

 

“Sorry…Zoi…g-gráim…” the words came out in a gasp, a giving up of the ghost as her head fell to the side. Wide, lifeless eyes stared up at him. The words were left unfinished, and he registered that the dull roar of battle around them had been punctuated by a sudden mad screaming.

 

“Brigid…! Brigid! BRIGID!” he shrieked, shaking her body roughly, but she was gone. She was…and he had…he collapsed against her, sobbing as he clutched her cooling body. She had healed him, brought him back from the clutches of the Shadow, and yet it had not been enough. It had not been in time…

 

He didn’t hear the clicking of boots behind him. He didn’t sense the man approaching or hear the hiss of metal on leather as a sword was pulled from its scabbard.

 

“Zoisite, what in Metalia’s name do you think you’re doing? She is the enemy,” Kunzite’s voice was harsh, twisted…and when Zoisite turned to face him, he found he was staring at a Dark Kingdom general where his Shitennou brother should have been.

 

“I killed her,” he said, voice broken and hollow in his ears. “Brigid…I killed her…”

 

“She is the enemy,” Kunzite said again, and Zoisite looked down at his gloved hands stained with her blood.

 

“She…she…I killed…I killed…my God, Kunzite, what have we done? Prince Endymion…we…oh my God. Oh my God…” he rocked forward, clutching his head as bitter sobs wracked his frame, and Kunzite growled.

 

“You are a traitor,” he accused, and a part of Zoisite wanted to laugh at how accurate the words were. “You…are pathetic, Zoisite. You do not deserve the mantle you wear.”

 

The blow was quick, precise, and he was dead by the time his body hit the ground next to his Brigid’s.

 

– V –

 

_tell her she is all that’s beautiful_

_tell her everything’s my fault_

_please tell her not to cry_

_I never meant for love to leave her cold tonight_

_Please tell her that I tried to spare her all my lies_

“tell her something” – age of information

 

A shout pierced the stillness of the dark room as Zane Murphy shot up from his sleep. He looked around, green eyes frantic as they tried to make sense of the darkness. Or…no, not the darkness. As they tried to make sense of the chaos in his mind. His eyes closed and he took a few deep, steadying breaths. It didn’t exactly work. With a huff, he kicked his legs free and swung them over the side of his bed. It took him another steadying moment to push himself up and cross the room to the window that overlooked the city.

 

It had been getting worse.

 

Three years back, when he was just finishing secondary school, there had been…he didn’t know how to explain it. It wasn’t quite the force of a dam breaking – that had been the previous week. No, it was more a slow trickle. A faucet leaking, the slow drip pestering his thoughts but not causing much of a distraction. Shadowy figures played across his dreamscape, three proud generals who called out to him – a…prince? A prince, begging him to return…and then _her_. He never saw her face, but it was always the same: a goddess bathed in blue and moonlight, tears on her clouded face as a whispered name was torn from her lips.

 

The dreams progressively grew worse, coming in clearer details but still always too hazy to make proper heads or tails of them. When they had turned darker, the screams of the dying and the stench of battlefields plaguing his mind, he had done his best to push them as far from conscious thought as possible. Let them haunt his night. He could function on reduced sleep if it meant they left him be during the day.

 

But then, a week back, it had all changed. Something had broken, and the slow leak turned into a flood that had nearly overwhelmed him. He had been working at the time, and he remembered spilling beer all over the man he’d been handing the pint to as he doubled over with the sudden force of the…memories? He barely remembered the man yelling at him as he realized that yes, they were memories. Memories that were only barely there, but suddenly in so much more clarity. Memories that were all too willing to pull him under as soon as he arrived home, as soon as he dared sleep.

 

That night, for the first time since he’d started having those dreams, he saw everything in stunning detail. The faces of his three brothers, the day their Prince had brought them all together at the Golden Palace and made them his Shitennou. The constant trouble their Prince gave them as he’d sneak away to the Moon, the long courtship they had eventually aided as he tried to win the Princess’s heart. The four loves that came as a consequence of all those trips back and forth: his Brigid, the shy princess of Mercury who had forever captivated his heart.

 

And yet, with every good and pure remembrance that played out in his mind, there were shadows as well. The Shadow that had overtaken their land and the day the first of his brothers had gone missing. The personal guard who had been so determined to keep the Princess of Mercury for himself, who – after discovering their affair – had secretly worked with the Shadow to infiltrate the Prince’s personal guard. The failed rescue mission and the weeks of torture that followed until his mind and heart had been twisted beyond recognition.

 

He looked down at his hands, swallowing thickly as they fisted until pinpricks of blood bubbled up around his rough nails. The blood of his Brigid, spilling around the dark crystal he had forced through her chest. The aching, undeserved look of forgiveness in her sapphire eyes as her life drained away. That last moment of clarity as she cast her final spell, using the last of her power to free him…the all-consuming pain as he realized what he had done, what had been stolen from him…and then Kunzite had found him sobbing over her corpse, had declared him weak and a defector, and had killed him before he could even try to reach the brother trapped inside.

 

But it hadn’t been allowed to stop there, had it?

 

As her final act of mercy, the dying Queen Selenity had sent them all here, to this future…but the Shadow had not been defeated. Metalia remained weakened but still so very much alive, and she had merely bided her time until she had been able to strike again. He recalled the months from his sixteenth year that had always been missing, locked away from what the doctors had claimed was a motor accident-induced coma. He knew better now. He remembered the fights, the youma…his Brigid, still fighting so valiantly to defend her Princess. Bunbo, that bumbling knight who still dared to assume he had a claim on the princess’s heart. He wondered what had ever become of the boy. Where he had died, Sailor Moon…the Princess Serenity, he remembered, now a warrior herself…she had healed _him_. Cured him of the shadow Metalia had placed in his heart and given him the chance to live out a normal, human life. Had he been living that life with his Brigid, who he still seemed so fascinated by? The thought was enough to make him sick.

 

From somewhere across the room, his mobile chirped. He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the cool glass of his window, intent on ignoring the call, but whoever was on the other end was persistent. On the third call, Zane finally pushed himself away and scooped up the phone.

 

“Better be bloody important for waking me up at this hour,” he spat out, glaring at the illuminated _3:02 AM_ on his clock.

 

“I know you were not sleeping, brother,” the cool voice of his elder, adopted brother answered. His spine immediately stiffened at the authority in Kassim’s voice. How long had it been since…they had not spoken in a week. Since…but then, he hadn’t really felt like talking to anyone during the past week. Not when every night the murder of his beloved by his own hands woke him from what was always an already troubled sleep. “Just as I have not slept since…”

 

“So you, too,” he said, his voice as bitter as the chuckle that slipped past his lips.

 

“We need to meet. Tomorrow at that café you like to frequent,” Kassim said, and Zane sighed as he slumped back against the wall.

 

“Morning? Say as soon as it opens? Damn it all I need a coffee. Or a drink,” he quipped, but Kassim didn’t sound amused when he answered.

 

“Drink will not help any of this,” he said, and Zane rolled his eyes.

 

“Loosen up, Kunzite,” he said, and he smirked in satisfaction as he heard the man bristle on the other end. “Told you I remembered. See you at nine, then? You’re buying.”

 

“I always do,” Kassim grumbled, but Zane was already clicking his mobile off and tossing it across the room. He fell face-down on his bed, groaning as his mind churned. The eyes of Brigid – no, _Ami_ – appeared once more in his mind, forgiving and kind and so very cruel. He had a feeling he wouldn’t sleep again that night.

 

– V –

 

Kassim found himself at his younger brother’s favorite café nearly half an hour early for their meeting, and yet Zane ambled in only ten minutes after. The younger copper-haired man shuffled right past him as he got in the queue, groggily rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. Honestly, he had not seen the boy look so unkempt since the months following the explosion that had killed the parents of this life. His father had been an archeologist and professor at a prominent university. Kassim’s father was a former detective inspector who had turned his life towards private security, and he had accompanied Dr. Murphy on many of his expeditions. Dr. Murphy and his wife had been at the market when a bomb had gone off, and Zane’s insistence on running off to the comic shop while his parents got the groceries had been the only thing that had saved the child’s life. When Kassim’s parents had heard Zane would be shipped to a foster home, they had interceded and brought the boy to England to live with them. Zane had been ten at the time.

 

As he had no other living relatives, Zane and his mother had spent many of Dr. Murphy’s expeditions visiting Mrs. Kadar and her son. Zane had always been a bit too boisterous for the stoic Kassim, but the older boy had still developed an affection for him. They had grown closer over the years, and after the explosion Kassim was the only one Zane would speak to for many months. He had slowly come back out of his shell, once again becoming the boisterous, overly flamboyant youth that aggravated him so much. If he was being honest, though, the change back was a welcome one.

 

Zane ended up ordering two black coffees before moving off to the side to wait for his drinks. His hair was disheveled, the curls frizzier than usual and hastily tossed back in his usual ponytail. When he turned, Kassim could see the dark circles under his dulled eyes. His clothes were wrinkled, and his usual style of ‘disinterested disarray’ was leaning more on the disorderly side than usual. But if his suspicions were correct, he couldn’t criticize his brother’s haggard appearance too harshly. He sincerely doubted the past week had been easy on any of them, wherever their other two brothers were.

 

“Zane,” he called after his brother had grabbed his coffees, and Zane jumped when he saw him sitting so close by. He scowled as he stalked over to the window table Kassim had snagged, placing the second cup down in front of him with more force than was necessary. Kassim lifted a brow at him as some of the drink sloshed over the side.

 

“Bloody hell, mate, you could’ve told me sooner,” he groused as he flipped the extra chair around and sat down, resting his arms on the back and slumping forward. He buried his head in his arms with a groan.

 

“How much sleep have you gotten the past week, Zane?” he asked, but the only response Zane gave him was to raise a hand with his middle finger extended. Kassim’s eyes narrowed as he reached out and forced his hand to the table.

 

“’Bout as much as you, I reckon,” he said. His accent was coming out thicker than it usually did in his exhaustion. “Kunzite.”

 

“I’m finding I’m often amused at fate’s little quirks,” Kassim mused, looking out the window. “That she would bring us together in this life as she had the last. Perhaps to make things easier for the Prince, once he were to find us again.”

 

“Or that shadow bitch manipulating us one final time to make things more convenient for her,” Zane groused, and Kassim sighed.

 

“Zane,” he said, his voice weary. He rubbed a hand along his face, breathing slowly to calm his rising nerves. “Zoisite. Can you please not be quite so difficult? The past is the past, brother. We must figure out where to go from here.”

 

“Where can we go from here, Kunzite?” Zane asked, raising his head just enough to glare at him. “Do you remember? Have you remembered it all? What we did back then…what we did now…I killed my Brigid, and then in this life I ushered her into the arms of that snot-faced –”

 

“And I killed you,” Kassim said, lifting his coffee to drink. Zane spluttered at him, but he just shook his head. “The past is the past, Zoisite. The best we can do now is move forward and try to correct those mistakes.”

 

“So what do you suggest? Catch a red-eye to Tokyo, seek out the Prince, and beg forgiveness? You honestly believe he will?” Zane bit, and Kassim sighed.

 

“I suggest we find our brothers, but if I know them as well as I used to then yes, that will be their course of action, as well. Mistakes and betrayals were made on all sides, Zane. You killed Princess Brigid. I killed Hathor,” he said, his voice wavering slightly at the end. Zane’s eyes widened, but Kassim was staring out the window as if it showed him a living picture of the past. “I think that was the Shadow’s plan all along, to twist us until we eliminated the opposing side. She seemed to be a fan of the pain, and what could be more poetic than lovers turning on the other?”

 

“Kassim…” Zane whispered, and Kassim turned back to him.

 

“So yes, I suggest we pack up and leave for Japan first thing. And pray they still live in the same area,” he said, tipping his coffee in cheers. Zane sighed, turning his head to stare dejectedly out the window. Somehow, he just knew it couldn’t be that simple.

 

“If they don’t remember us?” he asked. “If…if all they remember are the Shadow’s minions, and nothing of…”

 

“Something happened to free the memories last week,” Kassim said. “We must find out what that was. I refuse to believe we were the only ones affected. Perhaps it unsealed their memories, as well.”

 

“Yeah, but…ah!”

 

Kassim looked up, startled by the sudden cry his brother gave. Zane had leapt from his chair, kicking it back as he pressed his face and palms to the window to stare slack-jawed across the street. His whole body was shaking, trembling with a barely suppressed desire to action. Kassim’s silver eyes moved to the window then widened as he saw exactly what his brother was gaping at. There, on the other side of the little intersection of shops, stood Zoisite’s Brigid – no, what had her name been in this life? Ami? She was standing with a brown-haired boy only slightly taller than herself who seemed to be completely oblivious to the look of subdued torment on her face. As he beamed and animatedly relayed some point or other, waving his arms about to gesture to some shop or sign or whatever he was explaining, she stood by his side, one hand loosely clasped in his own, watching her feet like she would rather be anywhere but there. Kassim looked back to Zane, concern in his eyes, to find the chair he had vacated was wobbling in disruption and Zane was already halfway out the door.

 

“Zane!” Kassim called, leaping to his feet, but his brother wasn’t paying him any mind. He scowled and took off after him, wondering at the sudden change from guilt-ridden wreck to desperate, eager…oh, sod it. He was being a bloody schmuck.

 

– V –

 

Every guilt-born protest, every reason to stay in England as far away from the Prince as possible, every excuse that he no longer deserved the love of the blue-haired princess had vanished the moment he had seen her. He had had every good and noble intention to stay away, to let her live out her life without the mar of his many betrayals hanging like a shadow on her future, until he had seen her standing so close. Until he had seen that bumbling Bunbo standing next to her, their hands clasped in that way couples often did, Until he had seen that clouded look in her sapphire eyes – the same look that had been haunting his own ever since the week prior, when he had awoken in the dead of night with her name falling from his lips.

 

Suddenly staying at Kassim’s side had not been enough. Staying in that little coffee shop, so far away from her still, was not enough. Anywhere but her side, holding her in his arms, would never be enough.

 

“Brigid!” he shouted as he drew nearer, desperate to grab her attention. Her head raised, startled, and that pathetic whelp next to her didn’t even seem to notice he no longer held her attention (or, truly, that he had never had it in the first place). If he hadn’t been using all of his breath to run to her, he would have sighed in relief. “Bri-!”

 

The name was trapped by a hand roughly clamping over his mouth, his body jerking to a still as an arm grabbed him back. He twisted to see Kassim behind him, glaring down at him in that imperious way he had. Blast it all, he’d had it with these leader types! He struggled, kicking out at his brother and spewing out profanities that came out garbled against his hand, but Kassim would not relent. The older man stepped back, easily avoiding what would have been a well-placed kick to the groin, and sighed.

 

“Zane, contain yourself!” he ordered, and Zane stopped struggling as he heaved in lungfuls of air. Kassim’s eyes narrowed. “Think this through! Did you not just question the wisdom of running up to them without a proper plan? You must be – ah!”

 

Zane had had enough lecturing. He’d had enough struggling, enough fighting…enough _waiting_. Brigid was standing right there, barely a sprint in front of him, and still looking about the busy street for whoever had called to her…he would not leave her waiting any longer. As his brother scolded him, he opened his mouth as wide as he could and bit down hard on his palm. Kassim should have seen the move coming – Zane always was the dirtier fighter, thanks to his smaller stature and brawler’s nature – yet he still stumbled in surprise, and Zane quickly kicked him back to resume his race.

 

He was about to shout her name again when he saw the whelp finally take notice of her distraction. Bunbo reached out, cupping her cheek in his hand as he spoke to her. She laughed uncomfortably, waving him off before holding that hand to her cheek, and Zane felt his eyes narrow. When Bunbo had the audacity to lean down and kiss her – _his_ Brigid, who should only ever be receiving _his_ kisses, and what the hell kind of kiss was that anyway when she should only be kissed with the unbridled passion she was worthy of?! – his blood boiled.

 

_Never again, mo chroí,_ he quietly vowed. _Never again will I leave your side. Never again will you ever question my love. Never again will that insolent, good-for-nothing, son a kelpie’s hindquarters ever believe he has a right to touch you!_

 

“Bri-!” he tried, so much closer this time, but even as she was turning around to face him he felt that hand clamp over his mouth again as Kassim tugged him behind a corner. He began fighting again, screaming against the hand silencing him, but Kassim simply head-butted the back of his skull. The fight momentarily left him as he faltered, dazed from the force of the blow.

 

“Damn it, Zoisite, would you listen to me for one second?!” Kassim hissed, and Zane narrowed his eyes at him. “I know you want to see her again. Of course I know that. But you can’t just run up to her like there’s no history between you!”

 

“That’s exactly why I’m trying to run up to her, eejit! Because there _is_ history between us!” Zane hissed, squirming just enough to free his mouth. Kassim’s eyes narrowed, but at least his brother had had the sense to stay quiet.

 

“Including the history of this life, where all she knows of you is a servant of Metalia who tried to kill her, her friends, and that boy she is currently with time and time again?” he asked, and the reminder was enough to give Zane pause. He violently shrugged Kassim off, kicking him back in agitation as he crept up to the corner. Glancing around it, he saw Brigid…no, Ami…once again scanning the crowd, a lost look of desperation coloring her eyes. Was it possible she had heard him? Was it possible she felt it, too? His very soul crying out for hers? “You said it yourself, brother. What if all they remember are the Shadow’s minions? What sort of reunion can you expect to have if you just rush at her when that is the only recollection of you she has?”

 

“I thought you wanted us to return to them,” Zane whispered, the fight leaving him as the truth of Kassim’s words slammed into him like a ton of bricks. He stepped back, hiding further in the shadows as he saw Ami take a step forward. It would be so easy to just step out of the alley, step into her view, and let the pieces fall where they may. It would be so easy…

 

“I do,” Kassim said, walking up beside him and placing a firm hand on his shoulder, “but not like this. We have to think things through first. More than anything, we must find the Prince first. Our fealty is first and foremost to him. And then, perhaps, he can give us insight as to how welcome a return will be.”

 

When Zane looked back at him, Kassim actually smiled. He squeezed his shoulder and said, “I’m not saying I never want you to approach her. Just not today. Not like this. Zane, if you love her as much as I know you do, you will not be that cruel to her.”

 

“She looks so miserable…” Zane murmured, glancing back to find she had turned around to face Bunbo again. “Kassim, she looks…”

 

“Once we have found the Prince, once we have done our duty, you know where she is,” Kassim said. “Perhaps the Prince even has a phone number.”

 

Zane looked back at him, eyebrows soaring, and Kassim shrugged.

 

“Perhaps the Moon Princess has a phone number,” he amended, and Zane rolled his eyes. They heard voices approaching, and they both pressed themselves against the alley wall to remain hidden.

 

“Are you sure you’re ok, Ami-chan? Maybe you’ve caught that bug that’s going around campus. You just seem…off today,” Bunbo said, stopping with Ami outside the alley. He placed a hand on her cheek, and she shook her head.

 

“Maybe, but…I just thought I heard something…” she mumbled, and the pain in her voice cut at Zane.

 

“You haven’t been quite the same since coming back from Usagi-chan and Mamoru-san’s wedding,” Bunbo said. Ami winced at his words, but she shook her head. “I thought you would all be happy at that. Isn’t their getting married one of the last events before Crystal Tokyo?”

 

Kassim and Zane shared a look, the thought mutual: _Crystal Tokyo?_

 

“Yes, but…I’m sorry, Ryo-kun. I think I just need to rest. I should head back,” she said, giving him an apologetic smile. “I’ve got a lot going on this week, and travelling home for the wedding put me a bit behind. I think I’m just stressed.”

 

“Just make sure you’re resting, ok? I don’t want you to burn yourself out,” Bunbo – what had she called him? Ryo? – said. He leaned forward, giving her a chaste kiss, and Kassim had to grab Zane again to keep him from strangling the boy. “Come on. I’ll walk you home.”

 

“Calm yourself,” Kassim hissed in Zane’s ear as the two walked away. When they were a safe distance past, Zane ran out of the alley and stopped on the street, hands fisted at his sides as he stared after them. “Zane!”

 

“Well it would be easier if he would stop bloody kissing her!” Zane snapped back. “Those are _my_ kisses, Kassim! And he’s stealing them!”

 

“Would you stop acting like a petulant child and get your act together?!” Kassim asked. “I understand you’re upset, but –”

 

“And how would you be if that was Hathor, snogging some eejit right in front of you for everyone to see?!” Zane asked, and Kassim sighed. He had a point, loathe as he was to admit it.

 

“Would you please just come with me? The sooner we find the Prince, the sooner you can beat that boy to a pulp for ‘stealing your kisses’,” he said, and Zane’s expression brightened.

 

“Really? You’ll really let me beat the life from him?” he asked, and Kassim groaned.

 

“You will not land yourself in jail again,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “Zane, a criminal record is not the way you want to go about wooing Princess Brigid this time.”

 

“Oi, it’s not a criminal record! Just a few nights in lockup for drunken disorder…” he mumbled, and Kassim rolled his eyes.

 

“Come on, you idiot,” he said, walking the opposite direction Ami and Ryo had headed in. Zane sighed as he looked back after his princess; she had almost completely disappeared in the crowd, but he could still see her blue hair in the distance.

 

“Soon, mo chara,” he said, breathing out the promise like a prayer, “and then he’ll never bother you again. Just don’t forget me ‘til then.”

 

“Zane!” Kassim called, thoroughly at the end of his patience, and Zane grinned as he ran up to his brother.

 

“Right, then! Off to Japan!”


	8. The Devil's in the Nugget

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: “The Devil’s in the Nugget”  
> Fandom: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon  
> Prompt: 104 (Devil)  
> Character/Pairing: Mizuno Ami, Zoisite/Zane Murphy; Zoisite x Ami  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen (Really it’s language. That’s all.)  
> Word Count: 1,646  
> Summary: Five minutes later, with only a single point to her name, Ami screamed out, “BUT I DIDN’T EVEN TOUCH IT!”  
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.  
> Authors Notes: College-age/pre-Crystal Tokyo. So good news, guys! As of last Thursday (2/6), the first draft of my thesis was turned in! Thirty-four pages – and I’ve already got homework of things to include in the second draft! *I swear this is a smile you’re not seeing shut up it’s not insanity* How is that related, other than I just wanted to share with all you lovely people? I found two things are really bad to include in the thesis-writing process: the Next to Normal cast recording (do not listen to a musical about crazy people while writing a thesis, no matter how pretty Tveit sings) and…yep. Flappy Bird. This is some stress-relief, fun writing after that lovely experience.

**_“The Devil’s in the Nugget”_ **

 

The past week had been interesting, to say the least. Deadlines for senior year were fast approaching, though Ami had not been feeling the stress as much as some of her colleagues. A twisted, perverse side of her – one that had grown exponentially since reuniting with a certain strawberry blonde Shitennou – had enjoyed watching the other seniors race about the campus, spending late nights in the library and downing more caffeine than all of them knew was healthy. If she had been a normal student, she would have been in the same boat with them. She had never really been a normal student, though. She was the girl with the highest IQ in Japan, the one who had whizzed through high school while juggling superhero, world-saving duties, and had started college a year early – and would now be graduating after only two years in classes. While her closest group of friends was still trying to decide on majors, she was looking forward to starting med school the next semester.

 

So, while the other seniors had raced around trying to compile the first draft of their required thesis work, she had already turned hers in a week prior. (Her chair had actually e-mailed her the day prior, scheduling a meeting for Monday to discuss the necessary revisions.)

 

She actually hadn’t found the thesis that stressful. She had divided her work up into manageable chunks and allocated her time accordingly. She had worked on it diligently for a few hours a night for a couple weeks, and before she knew it she had produced a thirty-two page first draft (seven pages above the minimum, thank you very much). Zane had not been as crazy about it, as it had taken away from his precious ‘Ami Time’, but she had only reminded him that he had an approaching thesis, as well, and shouldn’t he really get to working on it himself?

 

“I am!” he’d chided, waving her off as if it wasn’t his academic future at stake.

 

She had discovered early into their relationship that her disciple was not something shared by her significant other, who was lackadaisical at best.

 

It wasn’t that Zane wasn’t brilliant. He was, actually: he possessed a brilliance that rivaled her own, as he always had. It was one of the things that had first captivated her about him, that he was so intellectually stimulating. While his interests and expertise drifted towards a different area of science, it had never prevented them from having long, in-depth conversations about the other’s chosen field. It wasn’t even that Zane lacked the motivation. When it was a subject he was passionate about, or something that he knew was important, he could knock a project out as quickly as she could. He was just…well, a procrastinator. He had described it as a ‘fuck-all’ attitude, and while she had laughed uncomfortably at the time she was beginning to see where he was right. He thrived under pressure, and if he deemed the assignment unnecessary enough he would much rather put it off in favor of other, more pleasurable pursuits. She had tried to explain to him that this was his thesis, the final landmark before graduation and in that respect very important, but he had only shrugged and said he’d get to it later.

 

Now it was due the next afternoon and he was…last she had checked, twelve pages in.

 

Ami sighed as she slid her key into the lock. That had been when she had left this morning, and he had made a comment about wanting to blow off his only class of the day in favor of cranking it out. She had been at the lab all day, and she hadn’t wanted to text him in fear of distracting him. She could only hope –

 

“FUCKING HELL I DIDN’T TOUCH THE FUCKING PIPE!”

 

…which could mean he either was no closer to finishing or had completed the paper hours ago.

 

She hesitantly peeked around the apartment door, eyebrows hidden under her bangs as she peered into the living room. He was hunched over on the sofa, his laptop open before him and books and papers scattered over the coffee table, with his phone in his hands. Her eyebrows rose impossibly higher as he began furiously poking the screen before a _THWACK!_ sounded from the device, causing him to scream some more obscenities and toss the phone across the room.

 

“Zane?” she asked, voice uncertain, and he mindlessly waved at her before retrieving the phone. He resumed his position, took a deep breath, and began poking the screen again. She closed the door behind her and walked over to the couch, where she leaned forward to see…what was she looking at, anyway?

 

It looked like an old Mario game, with the vortex pipes coming from the top and bottom of the screen. A poorly-drawn…circle? Thing? Maybe a bird? _Thing_ was floating through the air, moving up and down depending on how Zane was tapping the screen, before it _THWACK!_ ed right into a pipe and a screen declaring he had ‘1’ with a high score of ‘5’ appeared.

 

“DAMN IT!”

 

She placed a hand on his shoulder, and he whipped his head about with a snapped “WHAT?!” before pausing as he realized who was standing behind him. He at least had the decency to blush as she lifted one brow higher than the other.

 

“H-hey, Ami,” he laughed, and she nodded towards the phone. “Oh, this? It’s…don’t give me that look! I finished the paper two hours ago!”

 

“Well, thank Selene for that,” she said dryly, and he hopped up to crouch on the sofa before shoving the phone in her face.

 

“It’s this game! Jo was telling me about it, so I installed it on a whim for a break this afternoon,” he explained. She nodded, gesturing for him to keep going, and he sighed. “It…was not a smart idea. It was a really, really dumb idea, actually. I did finally finish the damn paper, but…damn it, Ami, this game should not be this hard! Watch this!”

 

So he sat down on the back of the couch, made sure she could see the screen, and began tapping again. She watched as he maneuvered between low openings before a fourth set appeared much higher on the screen and he smacked right into the pipe. He shouted another string of obscenities, and in a very Rei-esque move she slapped the back of his head.

 

“Zane!” she said, and he glared at her before gesturing to the phone.

 

“It’s this damn game, mo chara, I swear! This little chicken nugget is worse than any enemy we’ve faced before – worse than Metalia and Rei combined!” he cried, and her eyebrows raised again.

 

“You consider Rei an enemy?” she deadpanned, and he blinked at her.

 

“You don’t?” he asked, and at her blank look he rolled his eyes. “Have you seen her on a bad day? Better yet, have you seen her on a bad day when you have a penis? I didn’t think so.”

 

She closed her eyes and counted to ten.

 

“Your paper’s done, so I’m not going to say anything,” she said. “I’m going to go into the kitchen, and I’m going to make that soup you love so much, and we are going to have a nice dinner before you quiz me for that test tomorrow.”

 

He watched her walk away, shrugged, and went back to his game. A few minutes later, from the sanctuary of the kitchen, Ami heard him shout, “Fucking damn shit-faced little piece of shit fucker!” A few minutes after that, she felt his arms snake around her waist as she diced some potatoes. He nuzzled his face against her neck and moaned, “There’s a special level in hell for the makers of that game.”

 

“The one reserved for child molesters and people who talk at the theatre?” she asked, used to his quote, and he shook his head.

 

“Worse than that, I’m afraid,” he said. “Much, much worse.”

 

“Oh, give me that phone,” she said, refusing to believe any _game_ could be so horrendous – and she had been attacked by living video games on numerous occasions! She would know! After he explained the game to her, she nodded and tapped to begin. A moment later, her eyes widened as the little bird-thing slammed right into a green pipe. She achieved a score of ‘0’.

 

“See? Not that easy, eh? Not. That. Easy!” he crowed, and she glared at him as she huffed and tapped the screen again. Again, she tapped too soon and slammed into the pipe.

 

“No way!” she gasped, and Zane’s grin could be described as nothing short of shit-eating as she tapped the screen again. Once more, she achieved a score of ‘0’. (It did not comfort her at all to see that, despite an afternoon and evening of play, he had only achieved a high score of ‘5’.) Five minutes later, with only a single point to her name, Ami screamed out, “BUT I DIDN’T EVEN TOUCH IT!”

 

Trying his best not to laugh, Zane nudged her side and asked, “Ami, mo chara? The soup?”

 

“Oh, make it yourself!” she snapped, eyes narrowing on the game as the device squawked out another sick, resounding _THWACK!_ She screamed again and stomped out of the kitchen, leaving Zane to blink after her. He glanced back at the half-diced potatoes, wondering if he should do as told or press his luck, and when another shout came from the living room he grinned and picked up the knife. He knew, once she figured the game out, she’d probably master it in no time – and probably on his phone, just to piss him off every time he couldn’t get past a two. But for now…he grinned as he reached for another potato.

 

“I DIDN’T TOUCH IT!”


	9. Ami's Holiday, or The Boy in a Skirt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: “Ami’s Holiday” or “The Boy in a Skirt”  
> Fandom: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon  
> Prompt: 301 (Castle)  
> Character/Pairing: Mizuno Ami, Zoisite/Zane Murphy; Zoisite x Ami  
> Rating: RAT  
> Word Count: 5,068   
> Summary: Ami had been so excited for the trip to Ireland with her dad. He had told her they would go see the castles, and they would – if he could put down his paintbrush.  
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.  
> Authors Notes: Pre-series with a bit of hinting towards SilMil. Kid!bonding. Playing around a little.

**_“Ami’s Holiday” or “The Boy in a Skirt”_ **

She’s as faithful to her history as a Novice to his fast

For she is standing on the bones of Ireland’s past…

“Mary’s Eyes” – Gaelic Storm

 

It had been all the little girl could talk about for the better part of three months, ever since they had taken her to get her passport when the plans were first suggested. She had been so excited, and it had done her mother good to see the ghost of the girl her daughter used to be before…well. Ami had always been on the shy side, but she had never been as bad as she had gotten in the months following her father walking out on them. The good doctor had been glad, but with that came the trepidation.

 

“Don’t you dare let her down this time,” she had hissed at her ex-husband one night well after Ami had gone to bed. “She’s so looking forward to this. Don’t you dare go back on your word at the last minute and break her heart again.”

 

She had heard the exasperation in her ex’s sigh, the weariness at not being trusted but the acceptance that he had no room to fight the point. Sometimes it takes two to end a marriage, but his loose artist’s spirit had always put more strain on theirs than her hospital hours.

 

“I promise I’m serious, and I promise she’ll have a wonderful time.”

 

– V –

 

The grass was different here. A lot of things were different here, but to her that was what stuck out the most.

 

Back home, the grass was smaller. It grew in little clumps and angry patches, tiny fistfuls that forced their way through sidewalk cracks in a vain attempt to reclaim land long since lost to people and progress. There was an artificialness about it, the same air that covered every city that was too built up that made it feel stiff and unyielding and fake. The roads were paved, the sidewalks were paved, even the parks were paved. It was unnatural, but it was what she knew and so it was home.

 

She remembered a time when she was much younger when her family went to visit her grandparents. They lived in a small home in Wakasa that was set against rolling hills and mountains and the sea. Her papa had grown up there, and thinking back on the trip and the land she thought it explained a lot about him. There was an openness, a freedom about the place their condo in the city didn’t share. It made it easier to understand why he would choose these hills instead of the cramped boxes of urban life. That was the only time they had visited her grandparents in Wakasa. They had been old then, so they must be ancient now. She didn’t even know if they were still alive for how little her papa spoke of them. She wondered if her mama and she would be like that to him now that he has his freedom back: easily ignored and forgotten. It seemed so, from how he had acted the past few months. From how he was acting now.

 

Her fingers stopped pulling at the grass, the thought making her pause. That wasn’t true, though. Even if he was ignoring her now, and had been for the past few days, he was busy working. She had known this was a business trip when he had first asked her along, so she had known his time would be divided between her and his work. He had remembered her enough to invite her along in the first place, so that had to mean something.

 

As she buried her fingers back in the grass, she was again struck by the difference between here and home. The grass here was Wakasa grass, thick and soft and not easily threaded through fingers and toes. It was reading grass, or cloud-grazing grass. It wasn’t Tokyo grass. It was the kind of grass that clung to morning mist and stayed damp the rest of the day. The kind of grass her fingers got stuck in but didn’t come out when she tugged them free. She looked out to her papa, set up near the edge of a tall cliff painting the ocean, and she wondered if the damp of the grass crept through his shoes and socks like it did hers.

 

“What’s he doing?”

 

She nearly jumped out of her skin at the voice, and she was proud she choked back the scream.

 

Sitting beside her was…a boy? He…she…he was her age, maybe a little older, and still girlish and soft in his features. His eyes, bottle green and wide and rimmed with thick, long lashes, stared out at her papa with an unquenchable curiosity. His skin was a pinkish pale with thin spatterings of light brown dots on his cheeks and nose. His hair, copper and curly and tied back to straggle just past his shoulders, didn’t help her in figuring out his gender at all. Neither did the green and reddish plaid skirt he was wearing. But he was a boy…she thought.

 

“Why are you wearing a skirt?” she asked instead of answering his question. He turned to look at her, blinking those wide eyes like she was stupid, and she realized too late just how rude she was being. Her face burned in shame, and she bit her lip and looked back to her lap.

 

“Why’s your hair blue?” he asked in lieu of answering her question, and her face burned all the brighter. His expression was unreadable apart from that desire to _know_ , and so she couldn’t tell if he was just trying to rattle her for her bluntness. “S’not a skirt. It’s a kilt.”

 

His nose crinkled as he thought of something else. Without any preamble and full of the meanness of youth, he added, “You talk funny, too. Why’s that?”

 

Her hands fisted in her lap and her face burned. She was embarrassed, from her rudeness and his, and also a little angry. She didn’t lift her head, but she looked up from under her eyelashes to glare petulantly at him. She was surprised to see he was grinning, wide and toothy and brighter than the sun that was hidden in the sky.

 

“Ok, so that’s that,” he said. He nodded back towards her papa. “So what’s he doing?”

 

“Painting,” she said. She thought it was fairly obvious, from the setup and the way her papa was…well, _painting._

 

“Why?” he asked, and she frowned.

 

“Because that’s what he does,” she huffed. He cocked his head to the side, as if that angle would make him understand better.

 

“Why?” he asked again. She frowned more, confused by how obtuse he seemed.

 

“Because he’s a painter,” she said. “It’s just what he does.”

 

“But _why_?” he pressed, and before she could yell at him for being stupid he continued. “I mean, he’s just standing there. Painting. Innit boring?”

 

_Yes_ , she thought miserably, thinking of the grand adventures and scenic tours he had promised her back when he had first invited her out here. But instead of automatically agreeing, pride in and defense of her father bubbled up and she said instead, “He enjoys it.”

 

“Weird,” he hummed, leaning forward and propping his head in his hand. He glanced at her, frowning as he studied her. “So what’re _you_ doing, then?”

 

“Me?” she asked, and he nodded.

 

“Yeah, ‘cause it looks like you’re just sitting here watching him paint, and that seems even more boring than what he’s doing,” he said. She shifted uncomfortably, a hand reaching to her side to fidget in her bag and pull out a book.

 

“I read,” she said, waving the book around. He snatched it from her hands, and she spluttered out a protest as he flipped it open and started to read – or tried to, at least.

 

“What is this?” he asked, scrunching up his face as he tried to decipher the text. It all looked like a bunch of squiggly pictures to him.

 

“A book,” she mumbled, looking back to her papa. He frowned and pulled it closer to his face, as if that would help him understand better.

 

“What language is it in?” he asked.

 

“Japanese,” she said, her voice quiet and her face red.

 

“Oh! That’s why you talk funny!” he said, happily handing the book back to her. “Cool.”

 

She didn’t know if she should be offended or not.

 

A few moments of (uncomfortable, at least on her part) silence passed where he continued to stare at her father and she sat there, staring at her lap and picking at the edges of her book. She kept glancing at him, but he just watched her father. Finally, he cocked his head to the side and spoke.

 

“So you’re from Japan,” was what came out. She wondered if he had a tactful bone in his body. She doubted it.

 

“Yes,” she said.

 

“You’re here on holiday, then,” he said, and it wasn’t a question with the way he said it. She nodded, and he huffed out a breath. “Man, talk about a lame holiday.”

 

“It hasn’t been so bad,” she said. Even if it was the truth, she felt the need to defend her papa. “We’re supposed to go see a castle.”

 

“Really? Yeah, our castles are pretty awesome,” he said. “There’s a pretty nice one not too far from here, actually. Well, it’s really the ruins of a castle, but they’re still there and stable enough to explore. You could even walk there. It’s actually…” He directed her attention up the cliffs a bit, probably less than a kilometer away, where the ruins of a large castle stood imposing on the edge. “…right there.”

 

“He has to finish his painting,” she said, but she couldn’t keep the longing out of her voice. She had spotted the castle earlier – it was the same one her papa had promised they’d go see, once he’d finished – and had been dying to go. If only her papa would finish…

 

“How long’s he been working on it?” the boy asked.

 

“…all week,” she answered, her voice quiet and muffled. He turned to look at her, lifting an eyebrow in an infuriating way.

 

“And when d’ya leave?” he pressed, and her face flushed. She didn’t answer, and he frowned and poked her side. She bristled, and he grinned. “C’mon. When d’ya leave?”

 

“Tomorrow,” she mumbled, and his eyes widened.

 

“Tomorrow?!” he cried. He looked back to her papa, his cheeks puffing out. In a huff, he clapped his hands to his knees and stood. He cupped his hands over his mouth and called out, “Oi, mister!”

 

“What’re you doing?!” she yelped, grabbing his shirt and tugging. He waved her off impatiently.

 

“Can I take your kid to go see a castle?” he called.

 

“Be careful, sweetheart,” her papa called, not even looking up from his easel. “Don’t wander too far.”

 

She stopped tugging to stare at him, wide-eyed and slack-jawed.

 

“Right! Be back soon!” the boy called. He looked down at her, grabbing her hands and tugging her up. She was so startled she rose easily. “By the by, your da? Kind of awful. What kind of da doesn’t even recognize his daughter turned into a boy? I’m Zane, by the way.”

 

“A-Ami,” she stammered. He grinned at her and locked hands with her own, and without another word he began tugging her away towards the castle.

 

“But…my papa…” she tried to protest, and he waved her off.

 

“Won’t notice,” he said. “So Ami, huh? Not as Japanese as I thought. I like it, though.”

 

He kept prattling on, about the nearby town and the festival and who knows what else. For Ami, the whole experience was a bit like sensory overload. The normally shy girl had been caught in Zane’s whirlwind, and even though he wasn’t much older than her she was all too aware of the fact that she was now running off – being kidnapped, really – with a perfect stranger. And while she was quite proficient with her English, he spoke a mile a minute in a never-ending stream she found difficult to navigate. More often than not she found herself gawking at him, wide-eyed and nodding periodically to show she was still listening. All in all, it was absolutely terrifying – and the most fun she’d had all week.

 

And he’d been right: the castle wasn’t that far at all. Not long after leaving her papa, they stood at the base of a hill that led to another cliff, where the ruins of a castle stood guard against the sea. Really, it wasn’t the most impressive castle she’d seen since coming there. Its dilapidated state made sure of that. But perhaps in the end that’s what made it all the better. It was old and established, and therefore had no pretense. It simply _was_ , ancient and forever even with – or maybe in spite of – the weathering of the elements.

 

Zane was still babbling away at her side, but she was so transfixed by the massive stone structure she couldn’t bother to listen. She began to make her way up the grassy slope, desperate for a closer look, but a sudden hand on her arm pulled her back.

 

“Whoa! Eejit, ain’t you been listening?!” Zane asked, and at her confused look he sighed. “Sheesh! I just get through telling ya’ the place’s haunted, and what d’ya do? Bound off after it! On your own!”

 

She paused, confused as the trance was lifted and her mind sped to catch up. Finally, she asked, “…haunted?” At his nod, she pressed: “You mean…like…ghosts?” Another nod. Exasperation filled her as her opinion of her companion – already not that high to begin with – lowered a bit more. “You don’t really believe in that stuff, right?”

 

She was caught off guard when all he asked was: “You don’t?”

 

She hesitated because no, she didn’t, but the certainty and conviction with which he asked her made her pause. She looked back to the castle as she mulled it over in her mind. Did she? Believe in ghosts? Her mother didn’t. The great Dr. Mizuno believed in science and facts, things you could empirically prove and physically touch. Her black-and-white worldview left no room for the fantastic, for something as impossible as ghosts. Her papa was another story completely. He was an artist, open to more insubstantial truths like spirits and such. He had never said either way, but but she could see him leaping at the idea of a haunted castle in Ireland. He’d probably even offer to do a portrait of the specter. But her? Ami? What did she believe?

 

“Come on,” Zane said, cutting into her thoughts as he grabbed her hand. “You’ll be safe if we go together. I won’t let her hurt you. Besides, I don’t think she’s a _mean_ ghost. Just…sad.”

 

He pulled her up the slope to where the grass petered out to rocks and dirt and finally to the steps of the castle, all the while continuing his little history – mythology? – lesson. The castle, he claimed, was actually _his_ – or his family’s, at least. It had belonged to his so-many-greats something-or-other, who had been a king of the land. The legend had it that he had fallen in love with a faerie, and while all accounts agreed on that fact they seemed to differ on what came next. Some said the love was one-sided, and the pain of not having his love returned drove the king mad and caused him to leap from the wall into the sea. Another version said of course the fae, a princess in her own right, loved the king as well, but being of the Fair Folk it couldn’t be – unless the king passed from our world to hers through death, so – in the end – he still took a leap off the tallest tower. Yet another said the king never died at all but merely passed through a fairy ring to Tir na Nóg like Oísin before him.

 

“No, I don’t think any of those are right,” Ami finally said, eyes sad and hand pressed to the stone wall beside her. She couldn’t explain the feeling that had passed over her as they talked, as they saw the castle. She knew this place. It was familiar to her in a way she didn’t fully understand, all parts sadness and wonder and aching familiarity. She had _been_ here – but she had never before in her life left Japan, and she didn’t know _how_ she knew it. She just did. She knew it like she knew this place.

 

“Well, there is another legend,” Zane said. He passed through a doorway and turned, reaching out for her hand. “Here – careful. The last step’s crumbled a bit.”

 

He gave her a tug and pulled her into the gray sunlight of the late morning. She blinked, trying to adjust her eyes from the darkness, and when she could again see she gasped in wonder at the view. He had brought her to the wall-walk overlooking the sea, where his ancestor had supposedly leapt to his death. Despite the morbid history, she was awestruck at the view. She could even see her father, a tiny point on the cliff a short ways downhill from them.

 

“Some say she wasn’t one of the Fair Folk at all but Brigid herself, goddess of wisdom, healing, and the flame,” Zane said, but Ami just frowned. Flame? No, that couldn’t be right… “Loving a god is even worse than loving a fae. They’re so high up there’s no possible way for them to love you back, not really.”

 

“And you?” she asked, turning from the sea to look at him. “What does Zane say?”

 

There was a mischievous glint in his sea glass eyes, making them dance. She was learning to not trust that look.

 

“He only thought she was a goddess, like adults do when they fancy someone,” he said. She smiled, laughing slightly, before his eyes turned sad. “Nah, she was just a princess. But there was a war, somewhere far off, and the king went to fight. He died there, I think. Because of a witch.”

 

“A witch?” Ami asked, tendrils of fear creeping up her spin. She’d heard this story before, she knew, and she didn’t want to know how it ended. She knew she wouldn’t like that, either.

 

“Maybe a demon. She started the war. Killed a lot of men,” Zane said. He was suddenly distant, and it put her on edge. That uneasy feeling of knowing and memory was back in all its strength, and she didn’t like it. She didn’t like this story anymore.

 

“Before, when we first got here, you said she wouldn’t hurt me,” Ami said. Zane didn’t look at her, his eyes cast to the sea and seeing something that wasn’t really there. “Who’s ‘she’? What did you mean when you said _she’s_ sad?”

 

“Well, that’s just it, innit? Legend says it’s the king who’s dead, but he ain’t the one haunting the castle, is he?” he asked. His voice was low and eerie, and that glint was back in his eyes. Whatever mood had grabbed him – she thought the same that had crept over her the whole time they’d been there – was gone, and he was back to what she guessed was his usual joking self.

 

“How do you know? If it’s a legend?” she asked, her voice slightly accusing.

 

His eyes slid past her then, off to the side where another doorway led further into the ruins of the castle. When he spoke, his voice was distant again. All he said was: “…I’ve seen her.”

 

Ami froze. Maybe it was his voice, the ominous way in which he had said it, or the eerie, haunting atmosphere that hung like the mist over the crumbling castle. Maybe she was just getting caught up in the moment. In any case, she felt the hair rising on the back of her neck with his words, the feeling of cold water splashing through her veins. The way he had turned away, looking into the shadows as if he could see the dead princess hovering there _now_ …

 

She swallowed thickly, took a deep breath, and slowly turned her face to the door to find…

 

“BOO!” Zane shouted, face inches from her own. She screamed and stumbled back, and he laughed as he grabbed at her wrist to catch her before she tripped over the edge. He was still laughing as she steadied herself, heart pounding as a mixture of fear and embarrassment flooded through her. Her hands fisted at her sides, and if she was a bolder person she might have hit him. But acts of violence had never been her forte, even spontaneous ones, and all she did was turn abruptly to head back towards the door.

 

“You’re rude,” she said harshly, and he immediately sobered. “I don’t like you anymore. I’m leaving.”

 

“Aw, c’mon,” he said, trotting a few steps to catch up with her. “It was just a joke.”

 

“It wasn’t funny,” she said, and she was just about to hop over that last step into the darkness when he caught her hand and stopped her.

 

“Wait! Please stay,” he said, and she looked over her shoulder to find he was giving her a pouting, pleading look. What had her English teacher called it that day Takeshi had begged to postpone the test? ‘Puppy’ eyes? “Please? I’m sorry.”

 

She hesitated, only a moment, but it was long enough. When the smile started to come back to his face, she asked, “…is there really a ghost?”

 

Her voice sounded uncertain and scared, and she hated herself for it. But his grin was back in force, and it made her feel a little better, at least.

 

“Dunno,” he said. That glint – sparkle – was back in his eyes. He leaned in close, voice dropping to a whisper. “But there’s a legend, and ain’t it sorta the same thing?”

 

She studied him, taking in his impish features. Her papa – her aging grandparents out in Wakasa – had a word for this boy. Faerie, Zane might say, but the creaking voices in her head whispered _bakemono_. Monster. Demon. Something of this world but _other_. Her mother, with her science and modern beliefs, would put it much simpler: _brat_.

 

“Come on,” he wheedled. “We’ve still got a whole castle to explore.”

 

She took one last calculating look. The wariness was still there, but the pull of the promise of adventure was back as well. She held out her hand, and his smile was beaming again as he snatched it in his own. He was already tugging her towards the door and the next tower by the time she gasped out, “Ok!”

 

– V –

 

They spent the rest of the day crawling over every inch of that castle. They found no ghosts of long-dead kings or princesses or otherwise, but they did have fun, and in the end when they were walking down the crumbling steps back towards the cliffs and she asked again if he had really ever seen a ghost he just squeezed the hand he swung between them, reminded her of the fun, and told her that was all that was really important. She just smiled, thinking maybe he was right, and they walked back down the hill in…well, not really silence. Zane kept prattling on, as he was wont to do, and she just listened as he spun her tales of kelpies and selkies and the banshee his great-great-great grandfather had banished from those lands. She held his hand the entire time, and by the time they reached the hill where her papa was just packing up his paints the sun was just starting to dip into the sea.

 

“Zane Ferris Murphy, where the blazin’ devil have you been all day?!”

 

They both jumped at the shout, and Zane let go of her hand as he threw his arms in the air in surrender. He looked like he’d been caught doing something that would land him in worlds of trouble, and when Ami saw her papa blinking at her in surprise – like he’d only just realized she’d been gone and was wondering exactly how long he’d lost track of her – she realized maybe they had been. He hurried over to them the same time a woman in a full skirt with a sash that matched Zane’s kilt over her puffy shirt ran at them. She reached them first and grabbed at Zane’s ear, making him yelp as she began to scold him.

 

“Worried sick, we were! You just kip off in the middle of the festival, and we can’t find you anywhere, and it’s nearly nightfall, Zane! Where on earth were you, and who’s this, then?” the woman shouted, and Zane grunted as he jerked away from her.

 

“Ma, stop! I was perfectly safe the whole time! Ami here’s on holiday, and she wanted to see a castle, sos I took her –” he started, but the woman only screeched again.

 

“Zane Ferris Murphy you did not!” she cried, and he shrugged.

 

“Da said it’s ours, so I don’t see what –” he started to say, but she was having none of it.

 

“It’s a death trap is what it is, young sir! I don’t care if it is the family’s heritage, it belongs to the state now and they’ve said no one’s to go inside! It’s falling apart! You could’ve been killed! And kidnapping someone to help in your shenanigans? Oh, you poor girseach, are you all right?” the woman – Zane’s mother, Ami realized – asked as she knelt before Ami. Her hands were warm and comforting as they brushed her bangs aside to check for any injuries, and Ami mumbled out quiet protests that she was fine, _really_ , as Mrs. Murphy sighed. “Where’s your parents, girseach?”

 

“Here,” her papa said as he knelt beside her. Ami bit her lower lip, and at his scrutinizing gaze tried to talk – but he held up a hand. Switching to Japanese, they had a hurried discussion where he asked if she was all right, where they had gone, and told her not to ever run off like that again. She wanted to argue but knew he wouldn’t listen, so she just nodded and let him hug her. He looked back to Zane and narrowed his eyes on him. “Next time,” he said in English, “ask before you run off, all right?”

 

“I did, though! And you said yeah, but you were too busy painting to notice! Just like you’ve been too busy painting all week to take Ami to a castle! I just wanted her to see a castle, Ma!” he said, turning back to his mother, and she sighed as she clapped a hand on his shoulder.

 

“You still should’ve made sure he knew you were asking,” she said. “You know better.”

 

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, hanging his head, and she sighed as she squeezed his shoulder.

 

“All right, you. Say good night to your new friend. We’ve got to get back to your father,” she said. Zane looked back at Ami, frowning as he glanced at her papa.

 

“You’re leaving tomorrow?” he asked, and she nodded as she looked back to her feet. “Well…here, keep in touch, yeah? And maybe if I ever come to Japan you can show me a castle there, yeah?”

 

She blinked as he grabbed her book, snatched a pen from his mother’s pocket, and hastily scribbled some information inside the cover. He shoved it into her hand and again gave her that toothy grin. She felt her face warm up once more, and he started laughing again.

 

“I’m glad I met you,” he said. “Even if I got us in trouble. Sorry, but not really. Sure had fun, though, didn’t we?”

 

“Yeah,” she said, her voice unsteady. She was scandalized that he’d dare deface her book, but somehow it didn’t really surprise her. Not after their afternoon together. “Th-thank you.”

 

“Write me!” he said, giving her a quick hug. “Glad I met you, Ami!”

 

His mother apologized once more to her father, and soon she was carting him back to the small town. Ami looked down at the book in her hands, opening the back cover to find a nearly-illegible address and phone number scribbled down. She looked back to where Zane and his mother were walking off and bit her lower lip.

 

“We’re gonna be best mates, Ma,” she heard him say as they headed down the hill.

 

“Oh, I’m sure. Good luck with that, then, being on opposite sides of the continent,” his mother chided, and he stuck his tongue out at her.

 

“Spoil sport,” he said. “She’ll write, and she’ll come back here or I’ll go there, and we’ll have loads more adventures. And we’ll be best mates. ‘Cause you know what, Ma? Ceapim go bhfuilim i ngrá*.”

 

His mother just cackled, reaching over to muss up his hair with her hand.

 

“Little dreamer, you are,” she said. “Come on, now. Enough fairy tales. Your da’s waiting on us.”

 

They were almost out of sight when he turned around, that ridiculous grin back on his face, and jumped up to wave at her. She squeaked at being caught staring, and she gave a quick wave before she hurried over to her father to help him pack up his supplies.

 

The next day was a rush of airports and planes, and when she finally got back home to Japan and had kissed her papa farewell for the next who knows how long, the book went right back on her shelf where it belonged. She never really looked at it again after that, or at least not at the little note hastily scribbled all the way in the back. Life went on, as it was wont to do, and she never really thought about Zane Murphy again after that. She certainly never wrote him. He passed out of her mind as a hazy memory that, when remembered, was of the best day from an otherwise abysmal trip, all warm golden edges and indistinct features. She remembered a boy she had an adventure with, though she didn’t really remember a name or a particular face – though she did remember he wore a skirt, and that part of the memory always did seem a bit odd to her. And that was exactly how he stayed, otherwise forgotten and a little bit odd, until…

 

 

_* “Ceapim go bhfuilim i ngrá.” = “I think I’m in love.”_


	10. Wherein Ami Scares Zane Shitless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: “Wherein Ami Scares Zane Shitless”  
> Fandom: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon  
> Prompt: 310 (Afraid)  
> Character/Pairing: Mizuno Ami, Zoisite/Zane Murphy; Zoisite x Ami  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen  
> Word Count: 3,594  
> Summary: When Ami had said she wouldn’t be able to pick him up from the airport because she was ill, Zane had (rather reasonably) expected her to be at home. In bed. Not…y’know…out fighting a youma.  
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.  
> Authors Notes: Pre-Crystal Tokyo. Started this back in January when I was fighting off bronchitis, and got the motivation to finish it the past couple days as I’ve been recovering from my most recent bout of pneumonia. Funny thing is, when I started this I just added the coughing up blood bit for a little dramatic flair. As many times as I’ve had it, I didn’t know you could actually do that with pneumonia until a couple days ago. It’s actually kind of terrifying. xD

**_“Wherein Ami Scares Zane Shitless”_ **

 

His phone chirped, and Zane scowled as he dug it out of his pocket and read the impatient text.

 

_any improvement? xoxo minako!_

 

He rolled his eyes at Minako’s tagline and hurriedly typed out a reply.

 

_Still out. No news._

 

Hitting send, he shoved the phone back in his pocket and stopped his pacing at the foot of the hospital bed. He leaned forward, gripping the raised plastic that held the operator controls, and forced himself to take a deep, steadying breath. Everything was going to be ok. She would wake up any minute now, and then he’d rip her a new one, and she’d be properly chastised, and they could move on with the making sure she was well and healthy before he snogged the living daylights out of her. The desperation to see her healthy again warred with the temper that was just incredibly _pissed off_ at the moment, and he forced another calming breath through his nose as he recalled the events that had brought them there.

 

_He pulled out his phone to check for a status update, but there had been nothing since her text earlier that day telling him she wouldn’t be able to meet him at the airport. Apparently she had taken ill, and he would just have to wait to see her when he arrived home at the small flat they shared (thankfully, it was only a fifteen minute walk from the airport). He adjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder, sighing as he took in his surroundings. He knew she hadn’t been feeling the best when he’d left, but they had both attributed it to a sinus cold. He had only been gone three days, and he hadn’t expected it to devolve into bronchitis as quickly as it had. He was suddenly annoyed at the university that had called him back home, wishing he had been with his fiancée instead of lecturing across the continent._

_He was maybe five minutes from their complex when he heard the familiar shouts of trouble. And there had been the other reason he had been hesitant to go: the sudden appearances of youma that were popping up all over the city. Rei had had a vision claiming this would be the last Big One before Crystal Tokyo, but that did little to ease anyone’s mind when Usagi was six months pregnant with Chibi-usa and unable to do any actual fighting. Knowing they were already down one Senshi and painfully aware of the compromised health of another, he hadn’t wanted to leave, but Ami had assured him everything would be fine, and what if this was his last chance to see his home before the deep freeze hit?_

_He heard more shouting: a painfully familiar (if slightly gritty) voice yelling at someone to run just before two small children scampered out of the side street to his right. He ran around the corner and cursed when he saw Sailor Mercury firing a blast of frigid water at a youma that towered above her. It screeched and launched a whip of some sort her way, and she barely stumbled out of the way in time. He watched as she gasped for breath, her arm raising to cover her mouth as a violent fit of coughing shook her small frame, and he cursed when she barely missed another attack. He wasted no time in transforming, feeling the strength of the Northern King infuse his body as his white-gold uniform replaced his street clothes, and the next thing Mercury knew he was standing above her, slashing the youma’s whip in half with his sword. It screeched in rage, sparks flying from the severed weapon as it brought it back toward its body, and Zoisite turned fierce eyes on the Senshi behind him._

_“Get under cover and wait for my signal,” he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. Her eyes flashed back at him, but he was in no mood for a fight – at least not with her. He ignored the pallid complexion of her skin, the unnatural shine in her eyes, and turned back to the youma. Assuming she would heed his instructions, he rushed at it with a well-placed taunt. It screeched again, even as he maneuvered his claymore out of the way and fired a crystal shard at its gut. It attempted to send a blast of flame his way, but he easily dodged and swiped at its legs with his blade. It jumped atop the weapon, as he had anticipated, and its smug smirk of victory was short-lived as he placed a hand against its slimy abdomen. Its eyes widened and it howled as he shot another crystal, this one much larger, through its core. It stumbled off to the side, shouting at him, but he pivoted to swing the sword through its center. It released a final unearthly howl as it turned to dust, and he grinned in grim satisfaction as he gave a quick glance around the area. Confident there were no stragglers around to see, he let his armor fade until Zane was standing where Zoisite had been. Any satisfaction at the easy dispatch vanished when he turned and saw Ami sitting against the base of a tree, gasping for every labored breath. He cursed and ran over to her, hitting his knees by her side and quickly placing a hand against her forehead. She was burning up._

_“Eejit!” he bit out , his hand coming down to grab onto her shoulder. “What are you doing out here? You told me you were ill!”_

_“H-had to…pick up…medicine,” she panted, gesturing to a small brown bag by her side. He narrowed his eyes in annoyance. Every breath she took was stunted and contorted her face, as if it was physically painful to breathe._

_“And you couldn’t have one of the girls grab it for you?!” he asked. She gave him a weak smile, but any answer she was about to give him was cut off in a violent fit of coughing. His eyes widened as she pulled her hand away, a dazed look on her face as she noticed the red staining her glove._

_“…oh,” she said softly, and his eyes hardened. He wasn’t a medical professional, but he knew enough to know the crap she was coughing up shouldn’t be that color – and definitely shouldn’t be tinged with blood._

_“Damn it, Ami!” he scolded, but a new sort of panic gripped him as her eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed against him._

 

That had been two days ago. He had quickly scooped her up and rushed her to the nearest hospital. He had been fortunate it also happened to be the hospital Mamoru and her mother worked at – and the one she had just started her residency in – as the receptionist at the ER had taken one look at her and waved him into the back. Mamoru had quickly greeted him and looked her over, and a few tests later had informed him that what he had just diagnosed as bronchitis the day prior had deteriorated into a full-blown case of pneumonia, and a bad one at that. When Mamoru had queried as to what could have caused such a rapid progression, Zane had informed him of the youma and how he had caught Mercury trying to fight it off. Mamoru didn’t seem surprised by her recklessness, especially when Zane informed him kids had been involved, but that didn’t keep the Irishman from being any less pissed at the situation.

 

_“Zane, you need to calm down,” Mamoru said, laying a hand on his shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze. Before he could protest, Mamoru shook his head. “I get that you’re upset. But being angry isn’t going to help anyone here. And face it: you’re not mad at her. You’re scared that because she fought while she was sick she could have gotten herself killed, and you’re translating that fear as anger. You need to calm down, or I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”_

 

Zane had done his best to heed Mamoru’s warning, but it had been difficult. Truthfully, Mamoru had been on the nose: he was scared shitless.

 

He forced another breath through his nose before he resumed his post at the seat by her side. He grabbed the hand that wasn’t hooked up with an IV and gave it a squeeze aimed to comfort himself more than her. He brushed his thumb against her pale skin and sighed.

 

“All right, girseach,” he said steadily. “Whenever you’re ready.”

 

– V –

 

Waking up was like coming out of a fog. She was immediately aware of feeling like she had been hit by a truck, and given the last thing her foggy memories recalled was fighting a youma in the streets she wondered if that had been the case. She took a slow breath, surprised when her lungs rattled but didn’t give her the protesting feeling of drowning she had grown used to over the past couple of days. It was that same feeling that had sent her to the doctor in the first place, when the sinus cold had settled into her lungs and suddenly breathing had become tedious in and of itself. She had been diagnosed with a bad case of bronchitis, but nothing overly serious; take the antibiotics and it would clear up in a couple of days.

 

When she opened her eyes and saw she was in a hospital room, she figured running into that youma on her way back from the pharmacy probably hadn’t helped her case any.

 

She attempted another breath, satisfied when her lungs expanded with relative ease. She was pleased at how deep the breath had been, compared to the shallow gasps she had been forced to take over the past few days. There was still a pain, though not as sharp as it had been, and the action still sent her coughing – but thankfully some of the congestion came up with the hacking. She went to move her hand to grab a tissue for the mucus, but she found it was held firmly at her side. Confusion clouded her eyes as she looked over and saw Zane, looking haggard and slumped over her hand in a dead sleep. She frowned as she tried to wiggle her am free; she didn’t remember him…oh. Yes, yes, she did. She remembered barely escaping the youma’s attack, cursing herself for thinking she could take the creature on alone in her state, when suddenly he had been above her in full Shitennou garb. He had been furious, barking out an order to get out of the way before he went to finish the youma off. She remembered the cold fury glinting in his eyes as he checked on her afterwards, but then everything had swum as the lack of air finally got the better of her. How long ago had that been?

 

She attempted to ease her hand out again, but Zane grumbled in his sleep and held on tighter. She rolled her eyes and twisted slightly, wincing as the hand with the IV reached for the small tissue box on the table by the bed. A few moments later, she was tossing the crumpled tissue over Zane’s head and into a wastebasket, narrowly missing Mamoru as he walked through the door. He blinked at her, and a blush stained her cheeks as she ducked her head.

 

“He’s sleeping on my hand,” she said, wincing at how raspy her voice sounded from illness and disuse. She could really use some water, actually. “And I needed a tissue.”

 

“I’m just glad to see you up,” Mamoru said, grinning at her as he crossed the room to stand on the other side of her bed. He looked over the machine she was hooked up to, taking note of the readings. “How are you feeling?”

 

“Like I was hit by a truck,” she said, “but I can breathe a bit easier, so I’m going to say better.”

 

“Good. That means the antibiotics are working. We put you on a stronger one when the x-ray of your lungs came back lit up like a Christmas tree,” he said. Looking back to her, he settled his best Authoritative Stare on her. “Look, I’m not going to lecture you on going after that youma alone – especially with how your health is – but suffice to say –”

 

“I’m sorry,” she said, cutting him off. She took a shaky breath, and he frowned. “It was stupid and reckless, I know. But…”

 

“There were kids involved, and it’s your duty as a Senshi,” Mamoru said, sighing. “I know, and I understand. You just scared us all. The transformation alone was too much for your system to take. You’ve been unconscious for two days, Ami.”

 

She blinked, surprised at that news. Two days? Had it really been that long?

 

“Zane ran in here with you the other night, I’m assuming right after the fight,” Mamoru continued. “You were unconscious, and he was…well. Apparently you started coughing up blood before passing out on him, so you can imagine.”

 

 _No wonder he looks like hell,_ she couldn’t help thinking.

 

“Just…keep that in mind, all right? I tried calming him down, but you scared him pretty bad. He’s probably going to have an earful for you,” Mamoru said. Ami sighed and nodded. She leaned her head back against the pillow.

 

“I was supposed to pick him up from the airport, but I got sick. I wasn’t even going to go out, but…I had to pick up my medicine,” she said. She shrugged weakly, but Mamoru didn’t look amused.

 

“You know one of us could have grabbed it for you,” he chided. He shook his head, shoving a hand through his hair. “I would have even dropped it off on my way home. You know that, Ami.”

 

“Zane said the same thing,” she offered. Mamoru sighed and reached over, ruffling her hair like she was a kid sister that just couldn’t keep herself out of trouble. It was an odd feeling, considering she was the one who never got into trouble to begin with. It was more a Minako-ruffle, and she thought maybe that made her feel more guilt than any lecture he could give her.

 

“I’m just glad you’re doing better. I’ve got to finish my rounds, but I’ll stop in later. Need anything?” he asked as he made his way to the door. She looked thoughtful a moment before offering a helpless smile.

 

“Water?” she asked, and he chuckled.

 

“I’ll let the nurses know,” he said. He paused at the door, catching his hand on the jam. “And Ami? Remember: he loves you.”

 

It wasn’t that hard to forget when Zane woke up an hour later.

 

She was dozing when it happened. While she had been nursing her water, she had been stiff with nerves as she expected Zane to wake up and start yelling at any moment. But those tiny hospital cups only last so long, and soon she had no drink to distract her and Zane was still asleep. The longer he slept, the more she realized just how exhausted she was, even with two days of rest under her belt. She had started to nod off, so when Zane finally did start to wake up she was resting back against her pillows, a sleepy smile on her face as his eyes opened. She gave his fingers a squeeze, and he blinked at her with sleep and confusion clouding his eyes.

 

“Hey,” she croaked, and the word was like a shot. He leapt up, his chair skidding loudly against the floor before clanging against the air unit, and his hands immediately came up to cup her face. He held her still as his eyes scanned her for…anything, she figured, and she bit her lip, forced a better smile, and tried again. “Hey?”

 

“Thank God,” he breathed before crashing his lips against hers. She squeaked in surprise at the ferocity behind his kiss, but he took a moment before pulling back to rest his forehead against her own. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again, mo chara.”

 

“I’m sorry,” she said, and he shook his head before kissing her again. He seemed calmer this time, as if some of his desperation had melted away and he was content to just feel her there.

 

“You should be,” he said, and she thought maybe if she hadn’t scared him so bad he would sound more peevish than he did. Instead, he just sounded…defeated. As exhausted as she felt. “Seven hells, Ami, do you have any idea what I thought when…no. I’m sorry. Mamoru told me not to…look, I know why you did what you did. I’d probably done the same. But for the love of everything, Ami, _think_ next time. Please.”

 

“I was thinking,” she mumbled. “I was thinking about those kids and what would happen in the time it took someone else to get there.”

 

Her words were interrupted by gasps for air and ended with a coughing fit, and Zane sighed as he hooked a foot around a chair leg and brought it back over to the side of her bed. He sat down heavily and propped an elbow by her hip, resting his head in his palm and giving her an exasperated, dopey look.

 

“That’s my problem, mo chara,” he said. “I want you to think of yourself, and if you’re too noble to do that then be a dear and think of _me_. My poor heart can’t take another scare like that.”

 

“Yes, because I’m sure heart conditions run in your family,” she deadpanned. She mentally noted how hard it was to deadpan when you were speaking like your throat had been run through a cheese grater all week.

 

“Naturally,” he quipped. He grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the back. “And these little scares are no way to keep it ticking. So be selfish next time, radio for help, and keep out of the fight.”

 

“I’ll try,” she sighed. They both knew it wasn’t likely, given their status as public defenders, but she would humor him (and his poor heart). He smiled, his eyes crinkling in that way they did when he really meant it, and she hummed as she settled against the bed. “I’m so tired.”

 

“Then rest,” he said. “You’re doing better, but you’re still a bit a ways from a full recovery. Hey, Mamoru said once you woke up I could probably take you home. Finish out the meds in the comfort of your own home and bed. Why don’t you take a nap, and when you wake up I’ll talk to the big guy about discharging you?”

 

“…big guy,” Ami snorted, but she was too tired to ask him if he really called Mamoru that to his face. Zane grinned and tapped her nose.

 

“Shaddup, eejit,” he chided. There was no venom in his voice, though. Just relief. “Get some rest, and then we’ll see about getting you home. This bed is entirely too small to cuddle, and that is a very big problem.”

 

She laughed, though that just made her cough again. Her face scrunched in pain, and he stood to smooth her brow with a kiss. She mumbled something incoherent, but by the time he’d leaned away she was asleep. He sighed and settled back into his chair, keeping the fingers of his one hand laced with her own. Pulling out his phone was almost an afterthought as he heard it chirping again.

 

_mamoru told usagi she woke up! xoxo minako!_

_what’s the status? xoxo minako!_

_can we come in? xoxo minako!_

_how is she? xoxo minako!_

_zane stop being a butt and answer! xoxo minako!_

He rolled his eyes at the five messages sent in rapid-fire succession. Not even a minute had passed since the first had been sent – he hardly thought that qualified him as a ‘butt’, as Minako had so artfully put it. He glanced up at Ami, grinned a little, and snapped a quick picture to send Minako.

 

_She’s fine. Resting. Properly chastised on not calling for help first._

 

He was slipping the phone back into his pocket when it buzzed again. He rolled his eyes and pulled it back out.

 

_so we can come see her then? xoxo minako!_

_mako made cookies! xoxo minako!_

His left eye twitched. He highly doubted she wanted biscuits, since chewing required air and that was a precious commodity at the time.

 

_Mamoru said he can probably discharge her now that she’s awake. Let me get her home first, Minako. Maybe tomorrow._

 

He paused a moment after sending the message, and quickly typed an addendum.

 

_IF you can stay calm and not overtax her. Maybe the day after to let her build her strength up._

 

His phone buzzed again moments later, but he wasn’t pulling it out again. It would do Minako good to suffer a little. Waiting wouldn’t kill her. He squeezed Ami’s hand, content to sit there and wait for the nurse or Mamoru to stop back in and talk about those discharge papers. Knowing she had woken up, that she was all right…yeah, he was good just sitting there a bit. She was fine. She would be ok. He brought her hand back to his lips and kissed the back again, rubbing the skin with his thumb to reassure himself that she was still there.

 

Yeah. She’d be fine.


	11. Farmer Zane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: “Farmer Zane”  
> Fandom: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon  
> Prompt: 802 (First Impression)  
> Character/Pairing: Mizuno Ami, Zoisite/Zane Murphy; Zoisite x Ami  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen  
> Word Count: 5,964  
> Summary: Her first impression of him in this life was…well, not a very good one. Her second first impression was just odd.  
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.  
> Authors Notes: College-aged/pre-Crystal Tokyo. I get funny ideas when I do yard work.

**_“Farmer Zane”_ **

 

“There’s a strange man in my backyard.”

 

“Who – Ami?  Is that you?  Oh my gosh, when did you get back in?”

 

The confusion in Usagi’s voice quickly turned to excitement, but Ami wasn’t paying attention to that.  She was focused on the half-naked man in her backyard, the one with the strawberry blonde hair tied back past his shoulders who was pushing a lawnmower around her backyard like he owned it.  The note she had found on the kitchen table when she got home hadn’t been that helpful, either:

 

_Ami,_

_I’m so sorry I’m not home – got called in to work.  Murphy-san might be there when you get home.  Don’t mind him.  His money’s under the mat by the back door.  I’ll see you soon!_

_Mom_

She had been able to deduce that the mystery man – Murphy-san – was obviously someone her mother had hired to do the yard work.  It made sense, given she was almost always at work and Ami had been abroad at the time.  She would be starting university in the fall, but she had spent the last month of her summer doing an internship in Germany.  A few weeks before graduation, her mother had started feeling like an Empty Nester.  She had started talking about downsizing the condo, moving out somewhere ‘country’, and having a nice yard for Ami to relax in during breaks.  She had started talking with another doctor at the hospital, and they had partnered up to start their own practice.  It had all happened so quickly, really.  One minute she’s graduating and leaving the country for a few weeks, and the next thing she knows she’s getting a phone call saying they’ll have a new address for her to return to and oh, the practice is doing great.  And her mother finally had that yard she’d always wanted with the big plans for a beautiful garden, except starting a practice took a lot of time and work and she still wasn’t around enough to dedicate any time to that garden.  Hence Ami returning to a strange man – Murphy-san? – in her backyard.

 

“Usagi,” she said, breathing steadily to try and control the rising panic, “there is a strange, half-naked man in my backyard.”

 

“There’s a naked man in your backyard?” Usagi asked, sounding more confused than ever.

 

“Is he hot?” came Minako’s voice, and Ami realized Usagi must have her on speaker.

 

“Minako!” came a deeper voice, one Ami didn’t recognize.

 

“What?  I’m allowed to ask!” Minako protested.  Ami squeaked and ducked down as the man turned, hoping he wouldn’t see her through the window.

 

“Wait, wait – guys, shut up!  Ami, what’s a naked man doing in your backyard?  Is he ok?  Like…he’s not dead, is he?” Usagi asked, and Ami huffed out a frustrated breath.

 

“Usagi, he’s not _naked_ – he just doesn’t have a shirt on,” she said.  She heard Minako ask again if he was hot, but she ignored her.  “And if he was dead, I think I would be calling the police instead.”

 

“Oh…well, do you know who he is?” Usagi asked.

 

“Mother left a note on the table saying a ‘Murphy-san’ might be here when I got in,” Ami said, frowning as she peeked out the window again.  She sucked in a breath as she caught a look at his face before he turned the mower and started his next row.  Even obscured by dark sunglasses and a ridiculous floppy hat, she would recognize him anywhere.  “Usagi, it’s Zoisite!”

 

The reaction she received was significantly less panicked – or surprised – than she had anticipated.

 

“Ooooh, that’s right!  He said your mom hired him to do the yardwork!” Usagi said, and Ami nearly choked on her breath as Minako asked someone she couldn’t see – she assumed the man she had heard earlier – why he never did her yardwork and he replied that she had gardeners for that.  “Yeah, no worries!”

 

“No worries?  Usagi, Zoisite is in my backyard mowing my grass!” Ami screeched in a strangled sort of whisper.  Though, really, she didn’t know why she was trying to be quiet – the lawn mower was loud enough to drown out any conversation Zoisite might overhear, anyway.

 

“Yeah, I bet he wishes he was!” Minako cackled, and Ami paused for a moment as she wondered what Minako meant by that.  By the shouts her comment earned her from the other side, she assumed it was nothing good and she should be scandalized.

 

“Well, see, Ami, we meant to tell you, but we thought it would be best if we told you in person, so we were gonna wait until you got home, but you didn’t tell us when exactly you were coming in so we couldn’t really prepare and –” Usagi rambled, and Ami heard Mamoru in the background telling her to breathe.

 

“Usagi,” Ami called, hoping to get her to focus, “why is Zoisite half-naked in my backyard, mowing my grass?  And why don’t you seem at all surprised by this?”

 

“Because while you were gone the guys might have come back?  And Zoisite – his name is Zane now, by the way – might have gone to your house to see you before we could tell him you were out of the country?” Usagi answered.  Her voice was hesitant and sounding more like a question with every word, her tone near a squeak by the end.  Ami pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep, steadying breath.

 

“I do apologize for the surprise, Mizuno-san,” the unknown man said, “but when he arrived at your home he started talking with your mother about the yard.  My brother has a propensity for gardening in this life, and landscaping is a bit of a hobby of his.  He offered to maintain your yard, and I believe he’s even going to work on a garden for you.  We had been hoping you’d return during the week so you wouldn’t be caught quite so off guard.”

 

“It’s actually really sweet of him, Ami!  He wanted to be able to spend time with you, so he got an odd job around your house!  Isn’t that sweet?” Usagi asked.

 

“Oooh, you should totally go take him a lemonade!  It’ll be like one of those country romances!  He’s working in your yard, getting all sweaty, and you bring him a lemonade to cool down – but you just can’t help yourself around that hunky piece of man-flesh, and you start getting sweaty for a whole other r–”

 

“Minako!  Dear God, that’s my brother you’re talking about!” the male voice said, and Usagi started cackling as Minako asked what the big deal was.

 

“They’re both consenting adults – Ami deserves to get…sweaty!” Minako protested, and this time Ami did choke.

 

“Oh my God, Minako!” Ami screeched.  She felt like her face was about to melt off from the heat.

 

“Ami, look, I know it’s a shock, but it’s a happy shock!  You should just say hi – talk to him!  He’s been so excited for you to get back!” Usagi said, trying to cut in over the bickering Minako and the male had fallen in to.

 

“Usagi, that’s all well and nice, but it’s not helping to explain why Zoisite – who I thought was dead, by the way – is in my backyard,” Ami said.  “Or why he wanted to see me.  He…”

 

She grew suddenly quiet, her voice trailing off as a voice drifted in and out of her memory.

 

_“When this is all over, I’ll come with you to Mercury, and I’ll plant you the biggest garden you’ve ever seen!”_

 

…Zoisite?

 

“Ami, sweetie, what do you remember?” Usagi asked, her voice soft as the others finally quieted on her end.

 

“He wanted to plant a garden on Mercury,” Ami said, her voice quiet and drifting.  She blinked, her breathing shallow.  Was her hand shaking?  She felt like her hand was shaking.

 

“Because you loved the Terran gardens so much,” a voice said to her side, and she jumped as she turned to see Zoisite – Murphy-san, Zane – standing inside the back door.  He was wringing a bandana between his hands, looking at her like a nervous child who was about to be told whether or not his parents would really get him the puppy he’d been wanting.  “As a wedding present.  I wanted to plant you a garden.”

 

His voice was…painful.  Familiar.  Odd, fitting around the vowels strangely in that way she almost remembered.  He had an accent.

 

“Ami, sweetie, we’re gonna hang up now and let you guys talk, ok?” Usagi asked.

 

“Don’t forget the lemonade!” Minako cackled, and Usagi told her to be quiet before saying goodbye to Ami.  She just sat there, the phone still held in her hand and buzzing in her ear as she gawked at him.  He smiled, the gesture sad and slightly awkward, as he shoved the bandana in his back pocket and walked over to her.  He crouched down beside her and reached out, taking the phone and shutting it off before he rested his hands on her knees.

 

“A lemonade would be nice, if you have any,” he said, lifting his eyebrows over those ridiculous sunglasses, “but water’s just fine, too.”

 

“You’re here,” she said, swallowing thickly, and he chuckled.

 

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he said, “but you weren’t.  Didn’t realize you’d be out of the country, so I came to…well, and your mum was saying how she just moved here and already the yard was a wreck.  Didn’t think it’d hurt to offer my services.  Thought it’d be a good excuse to hang around you.”

 

“You’re here,” she said again, and he laughed as he nodded.  He squeezed her knees, and she gasped as she pressed them together.  “But…”

 

“How?  Dunno, really.  It’s all a bit jumbled.  One minute we’re stones, but at the same time we’re…I was in Oxford?  With my family.  My da taught at the university.  But he got a job here, so we moved, and…it was like once I was close enough, the stone…broke?  I dunno.  Released us.  Once our bodies were close enough to whatever part of us was in the stones.  And now here we are, ready to…please, Ami, don’t look at me like that,” he said, sounding suddenly desperate.  She didn’t know how she was looking at him, but she figured it had something to do with the way she felt like she was hyperventilating.

 

It’s not like they had never discussed the possibility of the Shitennou returning.  Shortly after Galaxia’s defeat, Usagi had been cleaning Mamoru’s apartment when she stumbled upon the box with the stones in it.  She had been surprised to find he had left it behind while he studied abroad, and the next day it had spurred her to ask the girls what they thought about the men returning.  It was only fair, she had argued, that they be given a second chance, and would her royal guard really be complete with Mamoru having no men of his own?  Their initial reactions had been hostile at best, but after a while…they had warmed up to the idea.  Usagi had eventually gotten them all to come around, but it had always remained just a hypothetical.  As far as any of them were aware, there was no way to actually _do_ what she was talking about – resurrecting the Shitennou – and Usagi had never mentioned researching the idea any.

 

Of course it would all happen by accident, then.  And now she had just returned from her internship abroad, to a new house she had never even seen before, and Zoisite was…

 

“Say something, Ami, please,” he said, squeezing her knees again, and she swallowed thickly.

 

“You look ridiculous,” the words just sort of tumbled out, and she blinked as she realized what she had said.  Well, to be fair, he _did_ look ridiculous.  He was just dressed in dirty, fraying jeans with rough brown work boots, his chest completely bare, with his hair tied back in a low ponytail.  An oversized, floppy hat sat on his head – she guessed to shield some of his surprisingly pale skin from the sun – and his eyes were hidden by large, dark sunglasses.  Really, he should at least take the glasses off now that he was inside.  He looked…out of place.  Silly.  And it probably wasn’t the most important thing to focus on, but it seemed to be the only thing her brain could latch onto – even if attacking his vanity was a bit of a low blow.  Below the belt…and goddess above, was that an oversized, Western belt buckle holding his pants up?

 

He followed her gaze to his belt, and he grinned devilishly at her as he opened his mouth to make what she knew would be a lewd comment.  She held up her hand to stop him, and he frowned as he snapped his mouth shut.  She reached out and removed the sunglasses, and she sucked in a breath as she took in his eyes.  In Germany, her roommate had been a fan of an American TV show about demon-hunting brothers.  The one actor had green eyes, and her roommate had described the green as ‘fanfiction green’.  Looking at Zoisite’s eyes, she felt she finally understood what her roommate had meant.

 

“I don’t know if we have lemonade,” she finally said, her voice sounding thick from how dry her throat was.  He blinked at her, his face scrunching slightly in confusion.  She removed his hands from her knees, taking her phone back and handing him his glasses instead, and tried to push him back a little.  When had he gotten so _close_?  “I only just got in.  We’ll have water, but…I can check for you.  If you need a drink.  It’s hot out today, and you should stay hydrated if you’re working outside.”

 

“Ami…” he said, watching as she stood and moved over to the cabinets to begin looking for a glass.  She kept her back to him, her gaze determinedly locked on the dishes before her.  She didn’t hear him moving, so she assumed he had remained crouched on the floor.  She quickly found a drinking glass, and – keeping her back to him – she moved to the fridge.

 

“I don’t see any lemonade,” she said.  “It looks like she has some cold tea, if you’d like that.  Or we have water.”

 

“…water will be fine.  Thank you,” he finally sighed, and when she moved back to the sink she saw him rise.  He moved fluidly, like a cat, and she tried to ignore the hitch in her heartbeat at the way he raised his arms above his head and stretched.  She ignored the way he lifted a brow at her when her outstretched hand shook under the tap, and she kept her eyes on her shoes as she handed him his water.  He muttered another thanks as he took it and drank.  She glanced up and found his eyes were still focused on her, and she found herself swallowing again.  She wished he would stop looking at her.  It was so…unnerving.

 

“I…I need to unpack.  I’m sorry for disturbing you.  Mother left a note saying your money’s under the mat.  I’ll just…I’m going to go,” she said, turning to leave.  He choked on his water, spitting some of it back into the glass as he tried to call after her.  She felt his fingers slip against her wrist, but she moved too quickly for him to latch on.  She heard him sigh and a heavy thunk that must have been him putting the glass down, and it was enough to make her pause by the stairs.  “If…if you like lemonade, maybe I can make some for next time?”

 

She glanced up at him again, biting her lower lip, to find he was blinking owlishly at her with those fanfiction green eyes.  He recovered quicker than she could, and then he was grinning at her like he was five and she had just promised him an ice cream.

 

“Yeah, that would be great,” he said.  “I’ll be back next Sunday.  I was going to start the garden then.”

 

“…ok,” she said, and he waited for her to say something – anything – else.  Instead, she gave him an awkward smile and fled up the stairs.

 

– V –

 

As it would turn out, the next time she saw Zoisite – _Zane_ , she mentally scolded herself – wasn’t Sunday.

 

It was Wednesday.

 

And she was dressed in nothing but a towel.

 

After she had escaped up the stairs, she had promptly locked herself in her new bedroom, sat down against the door, and tried not to hyperventilate or break out in hives.  When she heard a mechanical whirring from the backyard, she located the large bay window adorning the center of the exterior wall and quickly scooted over to the window seat.  Her mother had hung some white curtains in the window – or maybe they had just been left by the previous owner and she was waiting for Ami to replace them with something she liked – and Ami peeked around a corner to look into the back yard.  Zane was using another tool along the edges, trimming the bits the mower had been too unwieldy to cut.  His back was to her, and mostly obscured between that absurd hat and his long hair, but the sight was still…somewhere, in the corner of her mind her friends occupied and corrupted every thought that ran through her otherwise prudish head, Minako was cat-calling and making more innuendos about _mowed grass_.

 

She had left the window, too afraid he would look up and catch her watching him, and had remained locked in her room for the entirety of his time there.  He had entered the house once more before leaving, and he had called up the stairs to let her know he was done and would be going, but she had pretended to be asleep.  She watched from her window as he left through the back gate, and she only felt a little guilty at the dejected set of his shoulders.  At least he had put a shirt on before going.

 

By the time her mother had come home, her things were away, she had showered the airport grime off her skin, had a load of clothes in the wash, and was preparing a simple dinner to get used to the new kitchen.  Her mother had been surprised at the treat – apparently she had been living on takeout and fast food for a while now – and was glad to see her home safe.  She had sat down at the island while Ami moved around the counters, filling her in on Germany, the friends she’d made, what she’d learned, and the limited shenanigans she had gotten in to overseas.

 

“Really, Mom, you know me,” she had said.  “I’m not the ‘shenanigans’ type.”

 

“Unless Usagi, Minako, Makoto, or Rei are involved,” Saeko had said, smiling into her mug as she sipped her tea.  She had just sighed, allowing her mother the minor victory, when Saeko threw her next curve ball.  “Speaking of, how did things go this afternoon?  I got a text from Murphy-san letting me know he was here when you got in.  I know he’s been waiting for you to get back…”

 

She had wondered what Zane had told her mother, how he had explained their history, to make Saeko sound like she was hunting for a nice, juicy piece of gossip on her daughter’s love life.

 

It had been easy enough to wheedle out of the questions.  Oh, he’s an old friend from junior high.  Yes, his family travels a lot, so I haven’t seen him in a while.  No, everything was fine.  It was just a…surprise…seeing him so unexpectedly.  No, he’s not like Ryo.  Nothing like Ryo.

 

Saeko had eventually let it drop, but that didn’t mean the girls would.

 

Seeing them at the Crown the next day had been weird, especially when Minako and Makoto were being dropped off by Kunzite and Nephrite.  Especially when everyone seemed so _comfortable_ with them being back, but then again, Ami had to force herself to remember, the men had been back for a while now.  The girls had had longer to adjust.  And Kunzite – Kassim – had apologized for Zane, and had seemed the perfect gentleman, and Ami had just hung her head guiltily as she shuffled her feet.

 

“Can…can you tell him I’m sorry?” she had asked once the hugs and reunions were done and he was turning to go.  He had arched a brow at her, looking every bit the imposing leader she remembered from before, and she swallowed her nerves.  “I’m just…I’m sorry.  I’m not mad or angry at him, per se, but…it’s a shock.  I’m not very good at…well…people, is all.”

 

“She means guys,” Minako had quipped, and Ami had shot her a perturbed look.

 

“Guys,” she had amended, hating the way Minako smirked with such satisfaction.  “But that doesn’t excuse how I acted yesterday.  I’m sorry, and I promise to try harder next time.  I just…need some time.”

 

“We all did, Ami,” Usagi had said, squeezing her shoulder reassuringly.  “But I promise: everything’s ok now, and Zane really is a great guy.  I think, once things settle down, you two will really hit it off.”

 

So the girls had filled her in on what she’d missed the past month or so, and eventually that time came to include the returned Shitennou.  They had actually shown up not long after she had left, and she came to learn their transition into the others’ lives had been almost effortless.  There had been exceptions, of course, but overall the others had been surprised by how quickly they welcomed the men back.

 

“Really, I was expecting to be angrier,” Makoto had confided, “but once I talked to him…it was like none of it mattered.  I was just glad to have him back.”

 

“I didn’t even try to kill Joji as much as I thought I would,” Rei had admitted.  “It was strange, but…well, I guess things with Galaxia changed my perspective on the whole brainwashing thing.  I could empathize with them now.  It’s not like we all haven’t turned sides a few times by this point.”

 

“Yeah,” Usagi had piped in, “Mamo-chan’s turning evil every other week, and we’re still happily ever aftering!”

 

The others had just stared at her at that, and suddenly the tension surrounding their conversation had disappeared and they were all laughing and heckling like nothing had changed.

 

So she had thought, in the end, she would be better prepared for Sunday and the next time she would encounter the maybe-not-so-unpleasant-surprise that had been Zane Murphy.  At least she had thought so, until she had walked down the steps Wednesday evening in nothing but a towel and found him going over some papers at the kitchen island.  She hadn’t quite screamed, but there had definitely been some kind of strangled noise of surprise and horror and mortification that had escaped her and made him look up.  She felt her face burning, and she was fairly certain she was blushing clear to her toes, as she clutched her towel tighter.  She tried to relax her grip when she felt the action made the towel hike up dangerously higher, but her hands seemed frozen in fear.

 

To his credit, he didn’t immediately open his mouth and spout out some crude remark or inappropriate joke about her state of undress.  He actually seemed as surprised as she was, his cheeks stained red, and his mouth hanging open like he couldn’t manage to close it.  When she bit her lip and edged back up the steps, he snapped out of his daze and whirled around on the stool he was sitting on, slapping a hand over his eyes as he waved the other one at her haphazardly.

 

“Christ shit hell damn I’m sorry!” he cried, his tongue tripping over the profanities as he tried to get the apology out.  “You…I didn’t…I’m not looking!  I’m sorry!  I didn’t see anything!”

 

She was back up the stairs and safely in her room before he finished speaking, her hands clutching the door behind her as she gasped for breath.  She still hadn’t opened her eyes, silently praying what had just happened had been a really bad dream, when she heard him call up the stairs: “Ami, I didn’t see anything!  I promise!”

 

He was still muttering darkly to himself when she came back down.  Actually, he was slumped over the island, banging his head against the counter as he muttered darkly to himself in a language she didn’t understand.  He didn’t even look up as she entered the kitchen, so she walked over to him and placed a hesitant hand on his shoulder.  He jumped up immediately at the touch, and she drew her hand back as if she’d been burned.

 

“I –” she started, but he grabbed her hand in both his own and immediately started talking.

 

“I’m so sorry!  I should have…your mam said you were out, and I was just waiting for her to get home, and I promise I didn’t see anything, and I’m so sorry, and –” he rambled, and despite everything she found herself…laughing at him.  It started as a hiccough, or maybe a snort, but soon it was bubbling out of her and she just couldn’t stop.  She covered her mouth with a hand and bit her lip, trying to keep the laughter in, but it was all just so _absurd_.  He blinked owlishly at her, but then he was grinning, too, and she thought maybe this wasn’t so bad.  “Are you laughing at me, mo chara?”

 

“N-no,” she lied, but then he sighed dramatically and before he could say anything else she was laughing in earnest.  He grinned and pulled her against him, hugging her tight, and she found she was hugging him back – and she didn’t really mind.  “I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have…I thought the house was empty, too.  I should have gotten dressed before coming down.”

 

“Not that I didn’t appreciate the view,” he said, and when she tensed he rubbed her back and chuckled.  “Easy now, girseach.  I’m kidding.  Well, mostly.  Ow!”

 

She had nudged her elbow into his stomach, and she was glaring up at him from the little cocoon she had made against his chest.  He gave her an apologetic grin, but remained otherwise silent.  It was odd, how easy it all seemed.  Memories conflicted in her mind, what she knew to be true with ghosts of a life half-remembered, and none of it reconciled with the man standing before her.  She didn’t know how to proceed.

 

“There, now,” he finally said, squeezing her just enough to remind her he was still holding her almost embarrassingly close.  “This’s not so bad, is it?”

 

“I’m afraid I don’t have any lemonade for you,” she said after a moment, and he shrugged half-heartedly.  Before he could reply, she was disentangling herself from him, and he made a slight noise of protest as he reached out for her.  She stopped when she was a few steps away, and he sighed and dropped his hand at her look.  “Murphy-san, I –”

 

“Zane, please,” he cut in, and she sighed.

 

“Zane,” she said.  The name was odd in her mouth, but not in an entirely unpleasant way.  “I…I want to be ok with this – with you – I do, but…it’s hard.  I don’t even fully remember before, and I see you and I think…I know you were one of Endymion’s guardians.  I know you were coerced to Metalia’s side against your will.  I know you were…important…to me, back then.”  He gave her a look she wasn’t entirely comfortable returning.  ‘Important’ might just be the biggest understatement of the century, given what they had been.  After all, like he had said only a few days ago: the garden on Mercury was meant to be a wedding present.  At the very least, she knew that much.  “But I also know you tried to kill us while under her control, and I can’t reconcile that overnight.”

 

“I understand, I do,” he said.  “It’s just…hard, as you put it.  The guys and me, our memories are a little better than yours.  From what they’ve told me and I’ve seen, being around us seems to jog the process, but…I get it.  You just weren’t here, and I remember you amazingly well, and all I want is…”

 

He drew off in silence, and Ami felt her breath hitch.  All he wanted?  She could think of quite a few things he would – should – want.  Shoot, she could think of quite a few things _she_ should want – but her memory was uncertain, and she didn’t really know if she actually wanted them after all.  So she swallowed thickly and hazarded, “All you want is…?”

 

“Doesn’t really matter, right?  I’m going to try my best to be a little less selfish here and think about what you want,” he said, and he was smiling again.  It was disarming, relaxing, and she found herself smiling back.  He sat back on his stool and turned to his papers, and with a determined effort he picked them up and shuffled through them.  “I had some ideas for the garden, and I wanted to run them past your mam before I started work this weekend.  She told me she was going to be a little late, but to feel free to make myself at home until she got here.  You know, Ami, I think she likes me.”

 

“You’re very likeable, I gather,” she quipped, and his grin turned cocky.  She rolled her eyes and filled a mug with warm water for tea.  “Would you like some?”

 

“That’d be grand, thanks,” he said.  He pushed a page over to her as she returned with another mug, and her eyebrows rose as she took in the rough sketch.  “What do you think?  I won’t lie: this is more for you than your mam.  Old promises and all that.”

 

“You were going to make me a garden,” she said, nodding.  It was funny how she could remember that without really remembering a whole lot of him.  “We…we met in a garden, didn’t we?”

 

“You were as amazed at the colors as the Princess was,” he said, nodding.  “The lunar gardens didn’t have flowers like we did.  I thought I’d stumbled on a fey, not a Sailor Guardian, when I saw you staring up at the trees.  You were gorgeous.”

 

She could feel her face warming at the compliment.  She didn’t know what would happen if she actually looked at him, so she kept her eyes on the sketch.  The plans were beautiful.  He had been very ambitious in his goals, even including a little spot for a vegetable garden.  She wondered how well that would work, and who would take care of it, with her mother always at work and her away at classes.  Maybe, she thought, that was his plan to stick around some more: plant a garden he’d have to actively maintain.  She didn’t know if she thought it was disarmingly subtle or just plain sneaky.

 

“It’s not as elaborate as I’d like,” he confessed, talking right through her silence, “but my resources are kind of limited here.  It’s definitely not the garden I was planning for the palace on Mercury.”

 

“Well, you could always ask Mamoru if you could do the gardens in the Crystal Palace,” she mused.  “If it’s as peaceful as we’re all expecting, I doubt there’ll be much need for soldiers.  We’ll have to find something to occupy ourselves with to keep from getting bored.”

 

“Are you honestly telling me to become the royal gardener?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.  She glanced up at him, and she sucked in a breath at the playful look on his face.  He waggled his eyebrows, and she found herself laughing again.  She had to admit: she liked this him.  He was goofy, and it didn’t quite mesh with the memory of the flamboyant general she had fought against in junior high.  There was a niggling at the back of her mind, a recollection of pranks and – to use her mother’s word – shenanigans from a time long past, and she felt maybe she could get to like this Zoisite.  This Zane.  Maybe she had before.

 

“I think I like the sound of it,” she mused, looking back to the paper and hiding her smile behind her mug.  “Murphy Zane, Horticulturalist to the King.  Maybe we’ll finally learn where Mamoru gets his roses from.”

 

A moment passed where he simply stared at her, jaw slightly agape, and then he was laughing – a full-bodied, echoing laugh that filled her and warmed her heart.  Yes, she thought, she could definitely get to like this Zane.  He grinned at her as he calmed, and she noted again how much she liked that grin.  It was boyish and goofy, yet warm and inviting all at once.  Quirky.

 

“Oh, I think I’m gonna like getting to know you again, Ami,” he said.  She jumped slightly, but she wasn’t sure what exactly startled her so: that his thoughts were so similar to her own or that he would so brazenly voice them.  “I really think I’m going to love you.  It.  You.  I mean…”

 

And there was that fumbling, floundering bit again.  She bit her lower lip as he chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck, grinning at his lap as he tried to avoid catching her eye.  She wished she could remember if he had been like this before, back on the Moon, and she thought he had.  She just remembered the debonair general more, and it conflicted with this…well, dork sitting before her.  She took a resigned breath, let a warm smile melt her features, and reached out to grab his hand.  She gave it a reassuring squeeze, and he glanced up at her.

 

“We’ll have time for that later,” she said, and before he could question her – and from the look in his eyes, a mix of confusion and hope and something she couldn’t quite place, she knew he wanted to – she ploughed on ahead.  “But yes, I agree.  I think…I think I’m going to love getting to know you again, too.  You’re…”

 

Adorable.  Cute.  Maddening.  Quirky.  A dork.

 

“I’m…?” he pressed.  His eyebrows lifted, making him look far too hopeful, and she shrugged helplessly.

 

“…zany,” she said, and he choked on his tea.

 

“Seriously?  That’s your first impression of me?” he asked, but despite his words he didn’t seem mad.  More amused than anything.  “You think Zane is zany?”

 

“I do,” she agreed, and he laughed again before hanging his head.

 

“Whatever, girseach,” he said.  “C’mon, help me make this better.”

 

He pulled the paper back to his side of the table and beckoned her closer, and with a resigned sigh she took her tea and sat on the stool next to him.  He quickly hooked his ankle around the stool leg and scooted her closer, and she squeaked as she suddenly found herself nearly on his lap.  He smirked at her.

 

“Too much?” he asked.

 

“N-no,” she said after a pause.  He grinned and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him as he looked back to the plans.  She tensed only a moment, but she found the grip familiar and not entirely unwelcome.  “It’s…nice.”

 

He hummed, and she gasped as he reached up to kiss her cheek.  He face was scarlet, but he was already looking back at the plans.  He let her embarrassment slide and said, “Good!  Now, how can we tidy this up?”

 

Yes, she mused as she lost herself in the gentle, excited cadence of his oddly-lilting voice, Zane Murphy was definitely…zany.


	12. Chance Encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He sees her five times before he actually gets the chance to meet her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: “Chance Encounters”  
> Fandom: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon  
> Prompt: 806 (Falling in Love Again)  
> Character/Pairing: Mizuno Ami, Zoisite/Zane Murphy; Zoisite x Ami  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen  
> Word Count: 2,640  
> Summary: He sees her five times before he actually gets the chance to meet her.  
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.  
> Authors Notes: College-age. Started this senior year. It’s amazing the ideas that will come to you while standing over an industrial grill flipping pancakes.

**_“Chance Encounters”_ **

 

The first time he saw her was completely unintentional.

 

He’s been at the school for about a month, and he’s been working at the dining hall for about a week.  The job had come as more a desire to work and feel useful than any financial necessity, but he had wandered into the job fair right at their most desperate time and had been tossed into the kitchens within a handful of days.  His experience back home working the pubs made the job ridiculously easy, but it still occupied his time.  That particular day he had been in the main dining room since the lunch hour and was wiping down tables as the last few stragglers joked over the remains of their dinners.  His fellow students provided a nice background hum as he worked, and in his mind he counted down the minutes – forty-eight of them – that remained until he could toss his apron in the laundry bin and head back to his dorm.

 

He stood, arching his back in a stretch to work out the kinks from staying bent over so long.  As he straightened, swinging an arm across his chest to stretch that limb out as well, his eyes landed on a petite, blue-haired girl walking past the windows on her way somewhere.  It was the glint of blue in the dying summer sun that first caught his eye, though he had no idea why.  It wasn’t as outlandish as some of the more eccentric students he’d seen around campus, instead appearing much more natural.  The hue wasn’t dark enough to call black, and it was definitely, distinctly blue.  It was the first thing he noticed, and it was the first thing that stuck with him.

 

Her hand was raised to her ear, a small mobile device in her palm, and her face was frustrated – exasperated – at whoever she was talking to.  Exasperated, but in a good-natured way: whoever that person was was annoying her, but was still dear enough that she couldn’t get _too_ mad.  She was dressed plainly, in dark jeans and a classy layered t-shirt, with a stack of books in her free arm and a backpack slung over her shoulder.  That blue hair was cropped short, yet it still held an almost wavy quality to it at the ends – like ripples in the water, furling out to…

 

…and there was that damned Irish poet in him again.  He shook his head, chuckling lightly to himself, and watched as she turned a corner and disappeared from sight.  She was a stranger – a fellow student who just so happened to possess some of the most startling hair he’d ever seen, and he knew hair – but he couldn’t shake the feeling that, given the opportunity, he would love to get to know her.

 

– V –

 

It’s another month before he sees her again.  The campus isn’t exactly huge, but it’s still university and easy enough to avoid someone if you try (or even if you don’t).  That hasn’t kept him from looking, though.  Every now and then he’d catch a flash of blue, and he would turn just in time to find…nothing.  A jeweled clip in a girl’s hair, the helmet of a passing cyclist, a mosaic on a building wall.  Every bit of blue he saw caused him to seek her out only to find she was never there.  He was beginning to think he’d imagined her, a figment of an over-worked mind, because really.  He should have seen her again by now.  After all, she was a student, and a student had to eat, right?  And he spent a good deal of his time working where the students went to eat.  He was starting to give up hope of ever seeing her again when, one rainy Saturday, she wanders back in.

 

It only took three weeks and a bad flu that had left them severely understaffed to discover his cooking skills, and since then they’d bounced him all around the kitchens.  He’s at the deli that day, handing a curvy blonde who’s spent the past two minutes shamelessly flirting with him some health-disgusted wrap she had him whip up, when he catches the flash of blue.  He glances up to see her walking into the main dining room, her nose in a book, and he follows her as she chooses a table in the back corner, drops her bag on the floor, and proceeds to spend the next five minutes lost in her book.  The blonde has taken her sandwich and gone, annoyed at his lack of attention, and he’s fairly certain he’s distracted enough that he botches the next three sandwiches.

 

The fourth is kind – rude – enough to tell him _no, I didn’t want mayonnaise on that_ when she stands, still reading, and makes her way straight towards his line.  He watches her from the corner of his eye the entire time she’s there, and he wishes she’d just _look up from that damned book_ , when suddenly she’s right in front of him and yeah, what’s air again?

 

Her order is fairly simple – ham and cheese on rye, please – and he tries to make idle small talk as he makes her sandwich.  She’s not really paying attention, though, and he takes the time to study her instead.  Her eyes are what catch him most, as dazzling a blue as her hair and intense with their concentration on her book.  There’s nothing dramatically beautiful about her, he can’t help but note, yet she’s the most gorgeous girl he’s ever seen in all her uniqueness.  Petite, almost elfin features, and such startling _blue_ …but then he’s handing her her sandwich, wishing her a good day, and she’s thanking him and walking away without another word.

 

He doesn’t think she ever once looked up, ever once noticed him, but he’s as transfixed as ever as he takes the next order and continues to watch her from the corner of his eye.

 

Next time, he vows, he’s going to learn her name.

 

– V –

 

Of course, until this point, he doesn’t really know that much about her.  He’s seen her twice, and he’s not having any more luck spotting her around campus than he’d had before she came in for her sandwich.  He can’t help but think she’s making things rather difficult for him, but then he just chocks it up as part of the chase and determines that he’s willing to let it play out.  Something about her tells him it’ll be worth it.

 

And the day’s been long, and he’s carrying out yet _another_ tray of steaming colcannon to the exceptionally ravenous group that’s frequented the dining hall that day when he looks up from the cloud of steam released from the uncovered well on the hot bar to find she’s come in for lunch.

 

His heart drops to his stomach when he realizes she’s not alone.

 

The guy next to her is brown and mousey and in no way an appropriate match for her striking beauty, but they’re sitting too close to call them just friends.  She’s laughing and blushing, and he’s encouraging her to try the potatoes on his plate.  Everything about them is familiar and painful and screams _together_ , and when the boy leans in to kiss her cheek – an action aborted as she turns her head to say something but turns into something more when she leans into the full kiss instead – he scraps any idea or hope of learning her name, learning her more.

 

It’s not like she even knows he exists, anyway.

 

– V –

 

Hope is a fickle creature, though, and he’s learning that even  when he wants it to it won’t really die.

 

Mr. Mouse didn’t really aid in squelching it, either, the next time he sees her.

 

The day’s been long and hard and he’s completely knackered.  He’s lost count of how many coworkers called out unexpectedly that morning, and he’s been bouncing between the various stations working for five all day.  He had lost track of time until the head chef had kicked him out the door and demanded he take a break, which was what found him out back taking a smoke as he recovered on the stoop.

 

The raised voices aren’t anything unusual, especially this close to the city, but it’s the flash of blue that really draws his eyes to the scene.  Mr. Mouse looks agitated, resigned, and Blue’s crying.  Something about it all doesn’t sit right with him, and he snaps his steamer in half as he thinks how much he’d like to clock the gom in the kisser.  He doesn’t want her to cry like that, not ever, and how dare the bastard upset her like that?  He’s about to rise, to make his way over to them, when she raises her hands, backing away from him as she shakes her head.  Mr. Mouse tries to say something, make some excuse, but she just turns and runs.

 

His eyes are narrowed in a seething hate, and he doesn’t back down when Mr. Mouse turns and looks right at him.  There’s something strange in his eyes, a look of defeat and hate and something he just can’t place, and it almost shocks him into doing something rude.  Anything to get that look off him.  But Mr. Mouse just nods at him, and without another word he turns and walks off.

 

What the ever-loving fuck?

 

– V –

 

And then comes the day he finally gets to make his move.

 

His brother is back in town for the holidays, and he had drug his sorry arse away from their parents for some long-overdue bonding.  Kas is caught up in some story involving his roommate out at Berkley, and he’s trying his best to listen and laugh along at all the appropriate spots, but he’s been otherwise distracted.  He saw her the moment she walked in, the low lighting glinting beautifully off her hair, but something had been off.  She looked exhausted, defeated, and it wasn’t right.  The host had seen her to a table, and his breath had caught as the man slid her coat off and helped her into her chair.  She’s wearing a simple, light blue number with thin little straps and a lovely flare, and he can’t help but think she looks a vision.

 

She had arrived almost half an hour ago.

 

And she’s got a book again, but she’s obviously distracted: her eyes keep darting to the door, and it’s clear she’s waiting on someone.  She keeps glancing at her watch, chewing her lip the later it gets, and he knows – just like everyone else sending her those pitying looks, just like she does – that whoever she’s waiting for (Mr. Mouse, probably) isn’t showing up.

 

He realizes Kas has grown quiet, and he glances back to his companion to see the knowing look glinting in his metallic eyes.  Part amusement, part resignation – it’s not the first time he’s ditched him for a member of the fairer sex.  He finishes his drink in a single gulp of courage, sets it on the bar top, and hops off his stool.  He’s making his way to her table in a rush, struggling with his jacket in as big a show as he can in hopes to ease the tension that’s been building since her arrival.

 

“So sorry I’m late, mo chara!” he cries as he reaches her.  She jumps, dropping her book onto the table, and those too blue eyes are startled as he leans in to plant a kiss on her cheek.  “ _Play along,_ ” he breathes into her ear before drawing back and plopping into the seat across from her.  Her cheeks are a flaming red, but there’s something else mixing with the surprise coloring her gaze – recognition, or something more sour.  He doesn’t dwell on it.  “Dr. Donahoo kept the lab late again – I tried to sneak out, but she just went on and on.  Please tell me you got here late and weren’t waiting too long?”

 

He leans in conspiratorially, winking at her and praying she gets the message and goes with it.  There’s still that reserved look in her eye, but she smiles and puts her book down and honestly, it’s a lovely evening.  The food’s good, the conversation is excellent, and it’s strange how he feels like he’s known her his whole life – how he can so effortlessly slip himself into this farce of a date but appear to all the world like they’re perfect there.  Their dinner goes well over an hour, but the pub isn’t that busy and the staff doesn’t seem to mind.  It’s nearly eleven when she finally glances at her watch and lets out a startle squeak.  They settle the bill, and he helps her into her coat before escorting her outside.

 

“You know,” she finally says after nearly a block of walking and laughing, “I really thought tonight was going to be awful, but you’ve made it quite lovely.  Thank you for that, Zane.”

 

“Well, I’m glad to be of service, mo chara,” he quips.  “Girl like you doesn’t deserve awful evenings.”

 

“You’re too kind,” she demurs, looking at her feet with a sad sort of smile, “but I’m afraid you’d be wrong there.  You see, my boyfriend broke up with me last week, and tonight was…well, I don’t know what I was hoping for.  I was supposed to meet him, but as you saw he never came.”

 

He doesn’t react immediately.  He’s not quite sure how he’s supposed to, really.  Was she hoping Mr. Mouse would show?  Did she still love him, want him back?  He hopes not.  Honestly, he’s hoping he’s charmed her so well this evening she’ll agree to a proper date.  Then again, she doesn’t know he’s sort of been her personal stalker for the past semester or so.

 

“Yeah, I…I kind of figured as much,” he finally says.  At her surprised look, he gives her a bashful kind of smile.  At least he hopes it comes out bashful.  “I kind of saw you the other day, when you two were fighting.  If you don’t mind me saying, Ami, he’s an eejit.  Any bloke’d be lucky to have a girl like you, and it’s his loss.”

 

He hadn’t realized how long they’d been walking until he looks up and realizes they’re already back at campus – outside of his dormitory, actually, and she’s stopped walking.  She’s smiling at him still, but it’s more subdued.

 

“I thought I saw you that day, but admittedly I wasn’t really focused on what was going on around me,” she confesses.  His eyes grow wide, and her head tilts to the side.  “What, did you think you were the only one who’d noticed?”

 

“I…that is…you…” he fumbles, words tripping and tumbling.  He’s flabbergasted, and she giggles.  It’s a lovely sound, one he thinks he could get used to hearing.

 

“You work at the dining hall.  Your sandwiches are heavenly,” she says, surprising him even more.  He laughs, scratching at the back of his neck.  He thinks he’s blushing, but the feeling is so foreign to him he can’t really be sure.

 

“Thought you didn’t know who I was,” he says, chuckling slightly.  He glances up at the building before them.  “This is actually my stop, but…”

 

“Mine, too,” she says, and he grins at her.

 

“No way?  Well, I’d love to escort you to your door, then,” he says, “but…well, thing is, Ami, I had a really great time tonight, and I was thinking you did, too, so…maybe you’d wanna   do this again?  Officially and not just me barging into your dinner?”

 

And there’s that reservation again, but she smiles and reaches for his hand and it’s all radiant, really.  Brilliant.

 

“I think I’d like that, Zane,” she says, and he’s grinning again.  “I think I’d like that a lot.”


	13. Precautions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time he stays over, Ami notices a little dish on her windowsill the next morning. She doesn’t ask at first, but it is getting a bit ridiculous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: “Precautions”  
> Fandom: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon  
> Prompt: 405 (Gift)  
> Character/Pairing: Mizuno Ami, Zane Murphy/Zoisite; Zoisite x Ami  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen  
> Word Count: 3,583  
> Summary: The first time he stays over, Ami notices a little dish on her windowsill the next morning. She doesn’t ask at first, but it is getting a bit ridiculous.  
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.  
> Authors Notes: “Beings so quickly offended that you must not speak much about them at all, and never call them anything but the “gentry”, or else daoine maithe, which in English means good people, yet so easily pleased, they will do their best to keep misfortune away from you, if you leave a little milk for them on the window-sill over night.” Yeats, “The Trooping Faeries”, Irish Fairy & Folk Tales, p. 10. Given he’s a proper man of science and involved with Ami, I’m sure Zane has his own misgivings about this – but he is at his heart a Taoiseach, and the Good People remember.

“Rest, mo chara,” he whispered in the dark, placing a kiss on her bare shoulder when she stirred.  “I’ll barely be a moment.”

 

He slipped from the bed and out of the room, pausing a moment to lean against the wall by her door and sigh.  He hadn’t planned it like this.  He was still buzzing from earlier, from…and they had both collapsed in a thoroughly sated heap after, neither having the energy to move beyond the tangle of limbs and sheets.  He would have been content to remain there, wrapped around her still nude body for the rest of the night, and yet…

 

Shaking footsteps brought him to the kitchen of the small flat she had been renting during her time abroad.  He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, at least not before…but he had, and when he had awoken to find the moon already nearly at its peak he hadn’t been able to remain beside her.  The fear had already started creeping in, and he knew he would have no rest until he acted.

 

He sighed as he looked through the fridge.  She drank soy milk, of course.  He moved a few things around, hoping…there.  It wasn’t milk, but it wasn’t soy, either.  It would have to do.  Grabbing a small dish from the cabinet, he poured out a small amount of cream then, after considering the hour, added a bit more for good measure.

 

She stirred again when he slipped back into bed.

 

“Zane?” she murmured groggily, turning towards him.  His hand slipped to her hip, squeezing lightly as he caught her lips in a slow kiss.

 

“Go back to sleep,” he whispered.

 

“What were…?” she mumbled, and his lips quirked.  She was adorable when she was half-asleep.

 

“Bathroom,” he lied easily.  She hummed, curling up against him again, and he smiled as his arms wrapped about her.  “Now sleep.”

 

– V –

 

“What in the world…how did this get here?”

 

He peeked out from the nest he had made with her pillows.  She was standing by her window, still damp from her shower and dressed in nothing but a towel.  Removing his eyes from her took a great deal of effort, but when she reached out for the dish on the windowsill his blood ran cold.  She picked it up, turning it slightly, and frowned.  He didn’t relax until he saw it was empty.

 

“Did you…?” she asked, turning to him.  He gave her a lazy smile, and she laughed as she shook her head.  “Sorry.  I must have forgotten to take it out after finishing that paper.  I’m usually better about that.”

 

– V –

 

“I should get going,” she sighed as she looked out his window.  The weather had been unseasonably cold the past few days, and she was discouraged to see the promised rain had turned into something far more sinister.  Snow was falling in fluffy clumps, and a fine dusting was already beginning to coat the street.  He moved to stand behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

 

“You could stay,” he said, planting a kiss on her neck.  She laughed, reaching up to twine her fingers in his hair.  He let out a small, satisfied moan as she scrapped her short nails against his scalp.

 

“You would like that,” she chided.  He hummed, returning his attentions to her neck.  It didn’t take much to get her to agree after that.

 

Much later, she was tucked into his bed with a book.  He had kissed her and told her he would only be a moment, and when she heard him entering the room she looked up to find him carrying a small crystal dish half-full with milk.  She lifted a delicate eyebrow and watched as he carried it to the windowsill.  He lingered there a moment, his eyes scanning the snowy world beyond, before he turned back to her with an easy smile.

 

“Were you behind that, then?” she asked curiously, her head tilting to the side.

 

“Behind what?”

 

“The bowl on the ledge.  When you stayed over the other night.  I knew I hadn’t left it there.  Did you do it?” she asked, looking past him to the small dish.  He sighed as he removed his shirt, tossing it towards the basket in the corner.

 

“Yeah,” he mumbled.  She smiled as he crawled in beside her, his arms automatically going about her waist as he nestled his head in her lap.  Her hand came down to tangle in his hair, and he hummed as she ran her fingers through his locks.

 

“Late night snack?” she giggled at him.  She frowned when he tensed, but a moment later thought maybe she had just imagined it as he immediately relaxed.

 

“…yeah,” he sighed.  She glanced back at the bowl, concerned.  She was fairly sure it was milk inside.

 

“Aren’t you afraid it will spoil?” she asked.

 

“Nah,” he said, already sounding half-asleep.  He nestled closer, placing a kiss on her thigh.  “Not for me, anyway.”

 

He was out not long after, so she didn’t press the matter.

 

– V –

 

The next time he stayed over, he brought the bowl and a small bottle of milk with him.  After she had welcomed him in and he had moved to the kitchen to place the milk in the fridge, she had given him a look, and he smiled sheepishly at her.

 

“Lay off,” he sighed.  She shook her head and shrugged.  As much as she loved him, she was learning that Zane was a strange little man from a strange little country, and sometimes it was better to just not ask.  At the worst, she figured he would tell her when he was ready.

 

– V –

 

Two months since she ran into him at that pub and one week from her departure from his country, and Zane had practically moved into her little flat.  In a way it only made sense, since her place was a little bigger than the single room he had been renting over the pub, but she had been quick to remind him that her staying wasn’t permanent.  She would be leaving at the beginning of summer, when her semester was over, in order to return in time for Usagi and Mamoru’s wedding.  She shouldn’t have been surprised when he told her he was already getting his affairs in order: he’d be coming with her, of course.

 

(He had spoken with Mamoru and the others on the phone, but it was high time he saw his prince face to face, didn’t she think?)

 

Every night, she would watch as he carried that little crystal bowl into her – their – bedroom and place it almost reverently on the sill.  And every morning, she would awake first to find that it was, much to her surprise, empty.  She assumed he was waking at some point in the middle of the night to drink it (which was ridiculous, when it was just as easy to walk to the kitchen a grab a glass), but he never spoke of it and she never asked.

 

Still, she was curious.  Curiosity was in her nature, and if he wasn’t going to give her the answers she wanted she was determined to obtain them some other way.  So she had decided, that night one week from their flight back to Tokyo, that she would stay up and catch him in the act, so to speak.

 

He didn’t wake.  He remained curled behind her the entire night, holding her protectively.  It was in the early hours of the morning, when her eyes were just starting to droop beyond her ability to stay vigilant, that she heard the scurrying.  She blinked repeatedly, trying to force herself awake, trying to force her focus on the window where the gleaming eyes flashed through the glass before hurrying away.

 

The bowl was empty again the next morning.  Ami didn’t remember Zane getting up during the night, but she didn’t know who else could be drinking the milk, either.

 

– V –

 

She hesitated just outside the door to the bedroom.  It had been a long day, what with the flight and the reunions (both hers and his), and all she wanted to do was sleep.  But Zane was in her room, and the quiet voice within led her to believe he was on the phone.  She pressed her fingers to the frame and peered inside.

 

He was kneeling on her bed beside the windowsill, his back to her.  In the reflection from the window she could see he held the crystal dish in shaking hands.

 

“This is ridiculous,” he muttered darkly to himself.  “They can’t be here.  You could stop.  You should stop.”

 

He raised his head to look out the window, and he jumped with the flash of lightning and crack of thunder.  She watched as he froze, the eyes of his reflection wide, before he quickly placed the dish on the sill.

 

– V –

 

“Kassim, do you know why Zane always leaves a bowl of milk by the window at night?”

 

Kassim looked up from the box he had been unpacking, an eyebrow arched in question.

 

“He still does that, then?” he asked calmly, and she frowned.  She had been grateful when Zane had offered to go get the pizza, thinking a moment alone with his adopted brother would offer her some much-needed insights into her boyfriend’s eccentricities.  Kassim looked back to the box, his lips turning in a frown.  “You should ask him.  It is not my place.”

 

– V –

 

“Fare thee well, sweet Anna Liffey,” he sang quietly, his voice a low, lazy murmur.  He traced his lips along her stomach, moving steadily lower.  “I can no longer stay…”

 

“Oh, you can’t?” she laughed, reaching down to thread her fingers through his hair.  “Shame.  I think I rather like you staying…”

 

He chuckled and kissed above her navel, smiling as he nuzzled against her skin.

 

“You would,” he said, and she sighed as her back arched slightly.  Her head turned to the side, nestling against the pillow as he continued to trail kisses lower down her abdomen.  She smiled as his voice washed over her, his gentle brogue wrapping around the words like a hug.  Her eyes drifted open lazily, taking in the tiny form just outside the window, and she sighed happily as…

 

She froze, her fingers locking against his scalp in a vice-grip as her eyes snapped open.  He looked up at her, his song ending abruptly at her sudden shift in demeanor.

 

“Mo chara…?” he asked, reaching up to place a hand against her cheek.  She didn’t face him – couldn’t face him.  Her eyes were locked on something beyond the window, something out in the dark night.

 

“Bakemono…” she whispered.  He frowned as he followed her gaze, and he tensed only a moment when he saw what had so captivated her attention.

 

“Hello, wee one,” he said cheerfully.  It was light and shadow, not even a foot tall as it danced on the ledge.  Its features were nearly indistinguishable – Ami had to squint, and even then could barely make them out past the glow.  It stepped through the window as if it were nothing and bowed, a quaint little curtsy to the two lying before her.  If Ami had been able to look at him, she would have seen Zane’s smile soften as he nodded to the figure.  “Go on, then.  And thank you.”

 

It smiled, or perhaps it was just the glow becoming brighter.  Ami watched, mesmerized, as it lifted the crystal dish and took a long drink.  When she blinked, the figure was gone and the dish was empty.

 

– V –

 

“What the hell was outside our window last night?”

 

He looked up from his breakfast cereal, startled by her question.  She stood at the counter, her back to him and head bowed.  She had been making tea.

 

“What was what?” he asked, and he saw her arms tense – her grip tightening on her mug.  She had been quiet all morning.  They woke up late, and she had risen first as usual – but she had slipped from the bed before waking him, which was not.  He had awoken to the sound of the shower drowning out muffled sobs, but when she had emerged a short time later she had been perfectly composed.  Then she had refused to speak to him the rest of the morning.

 

“Why do you leave that dish in the window every night?” she asked, turning on him with a determined ferocity.  She grabbed a chair and pulled it up beside him, and he jumped as she sat and leaned towards him.  Her eyes were fierce – the look of the Senshi she was, of the princess she had been, and the queen she would be.  “Was it for that…that…thing last night?  What was it?  You acted like…”

 

“I’m Irish,” he said, as if that should explain everything.  She pursed her lips.

 

“So was Dr. Callaghan,” she said tersely, “and she didn’t do that.”

 

He lifted an eyebrow at her, and she frowned.  As far as she knew Dr. Callaghan hadn’t, at least.  She had stayed with her supervising professor the first two weeks she had been abroad, before they had found her a suitable flat, and Ami had never seen the good doctor place a bowl of milk on the windowsill before bed.  She jumped when she heard Zane sigh, and she turned her attention back to him.  He was staring at the living room, towards the balcony doors.

 

“We’re fourteen stories up,” she pressed.  “Nothing could have been at our window, at least nothing human.  It didn’t look like a youma, at least none that I’ve ever seen, and –”

 

“It wasn’t a youma, Ami,” he sighed.  His voice was quiet, heavy.  A chill stole up her back as she watched him.  “She was perfectly safe.  At least…she was.  They aren’t always.”

 

“Zane, what are you talking about?  What was she?” she asked.

 

“She was one of the daoine maithe,” he started, and at her confused expression he waved his hand in the air.  “The Good People.”

 

Her eyes grew wide, and she was fairly certain her heart skipped a beat.  The Good People.  She had heard one of her classmates speak of them: fairies.  Their myth permeated the country she had called home for five months, and while the older citizens had clung to their silly superstitions she had always been more practical about it all.  After all, that’s all they were: myths and superstitions.  Don’t cross the fairy rings.  Don’t trespass into the burial mounds.  Don’t start a journey on a Friday, avoid black cats, don’t break any mirrors – it was all a bunch of silly hogwash.  Surely Zane couldn’t…

 

But if not, then what exactly had been outside their window last night?  What had been drinking the milk?

 

“You can’t honestly expect me to believe that,” she groaned, reaching up to rub at her temples.  When she looked back to him, she noted that he seemed…terrified.  Like he had known this would be her reaction.  Like…  “Zane, you’re a man of _science_.  You can’t honestly tell me you believe in something that has no empirical –”

 

“And we’re reincarnated royalty from a kingdom a thousand years dead, and you from another planet to boot,” he snapped.  “But of course Tír na nÓg is what makes me sound crazy.”

 

“That’s not what I –” she started, but he held up a hand and scowled at her.

 

“Drop it, mo chara,” he bit.  “I’m late for work.”

 

– V –

 

That night, she hid the dish.

 

He glared at her, snatched a small teacup from the cupboard, and carried it into the room.

 

While he was in the bathroom, she dumped the milk and hid the teacup, too.

 

When he came back into their room and saw the teacup gone, he slammed the door and slept on the couch.

 

The next morning, she saw another teacup sitting on the floor before the balcony doors.  It was empty.

 

– V –

 

“It’s ridiculous,” she huffed, aggressively stabbing a white rose into the bouquet she was working on.  Makoto winced as she watched her friend work.

 

“Ami, maybe you should…” she started, but her friend ignored her and continued to vent.

 

“He is an adult, and he still believes in whatever fairy stories his parents spun him as a child!” she fumed.  “Every night, he puts that stupid bowl in the window, and I know he has to be drinking it –”

 

“Even though you saw the fae at the window?” Nate asked calmly, and Ami froze as she raised furious eyes on him.  He sat opposite her, helping Makoto wind the ribbons around the stems of the bouquets.  Without raising his eyes to her, he continued.  “Zane told me about your little visitor.  You saw her, and you still doubt him?”

 

“It’s…that wasn’t…it was late, and I was tired, and I don’t know what I saw!” she huffed.  “It couldn’t have been…fairies don’t exist!”

 

“But youma, dark energy demons, and aliens do,” Nate mused, neatly finishing a bow and handing the bouquet off to Makoto, who placed it beside the others.  “There is more to this world than we can possibly understand, Ami, and as a Sailor Senshi you are living proof of that.  Why are faeries so hard for you to believe?”

 

She looked back to the bouquet she was working on, frowning as she observed it.  She had been a bit…forceful…with it, and she would have to start over.

 

“Ask him about the dish again,” Nate advised.  He accepted a cup of tea from Makoto, pulling her close to kiss her cheek in thanks.  He sipped his tea before picking up the next bouquet.  “And this time be a bit more patient.  Kas said you had asked him about it, and he also advised you speak to Zane on the matter.  Zane has already discussed this with us, but it’s not our place to tell you.  This is something you must discuss together.”

 

– V –

 

When he came home, she was waiting on the couch with two mugs of tea on the table before her.  The crystal dish sat between them.

 

“It’s silly,” she said when he stopped before her.  His fist was tight on the strap of his messenger bag.  “We haven’t been together that long, not really.  I know we have…extenuating circumstances, but really we haven’t been together that long.”

 

He grunted, and her hands tightened around each other from where they sat in her lap.

 

“I missed you last night,” she confessed.  “I…I don’t want to miss you tonight.”

 

She heard him sigh, and when she looked up he was tossing his bag and coat in the corner.  A part of her bristled, but this conversation was more important than her neuroses.  He sat down heavily beside her, sinking back into the couch and staring at the dish.

 

“Zane, I –” she started, but she froze when he reached out and wiggled his hand between hers, locking their fingers together instead.  He still wouldn’t look at her, but she was comforted that he would at least hold her hand.

 

“I know you don’t understand it,” he finally said, “and I know you think it’s silly and stupid and that I should stop.  But…it’s something I’ve always done, mo chara.  My gran…they lived outside the city, on an old farm, and there was a brownie in the barn.  I would spend my summers there when I was little, and Gran would always have me set out a dish of cream for the brownie.”

 

He sighed, squeezing her hand again.  He closed his eyes and leaned against her, resting his head on her shoulder.

 

“It’s not…it’s not really good luck, if you will.  And it’s not payment, or anything like that.  But you leave out a dish of milk for the Good People, and the stories go they’ll protect you,” he continued.  “Or…not protect, as such.  It’s kind of like a tribute?  Sign of respect?  Saints above, I’m botching this up.  I don’t really know how to explain it to you, mo chara.  It’s just something I have to do.”

 

“You do this every night?” she asked.  It was only a moment, but she felt him tense again before nodding.

 

“Every night except one,” he whispered.  His grip tightened on her hand, and she saw his eyes tighten as well – as if memories were plaguing him.  She reached out and ran her free hand through his hair, and he relaxed a bit.

 

“What happened?”

 

“I forgot,” he said.  “I was sick, and I forgot.  That was the only time I ever forgot, mo chroí.”

 

“Zane,” she whispered, brushing her lips against his forehead, “what happened?”

 

“Beryl,” he croaked, and her breath caught in her throat.  They hadn’t really spoken of that night.  She knew vaguely what had happened, the same as the others: Beryl had found them before they had awoken, before they could find Mamoru, and she had ripped them from their lives to corrupt them with her dark power.  Beyond that, none of the men had really wanted to go into much detail.  “I forgot, Ami, and she took me away.”

 

– V –

 

That night, Zane looked up from his book to find Ami carrying the milk-filled dish into their room.  She reached over him, silently placing it in the window, and as she went to lean back he caught her in a fierce kiss, his book forgotten beside them.

 

They never spoke of it again.


	14. Ami and...Zane?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two days after Luna returns her memories, Usagi stops by the Crown to find some familiar, if unexpected, faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: “Ami and…Zane?”  
> Fandom: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon  
> Prompt: 904 (Rebirth)  
> Character/Pairing: Tsukino Usagi, Furuhata Motoki, Mizuno Ami, Zoisite/Zane Murphy; Zoisite x Ami, blink-and-you-miss-it Mamoru x Usagi  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen  
> Word Count: 2,508  
> Summary: Two days after Luna returns her memories, Usagi stops by the Crown to find some familiar, if unexpected, faces.  
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.  
> Authors Notes: R, after Usagi reawakens but before she reawakens the girls. Going from the idea of what if the Shitennou were reborn post-Beryl as well. I’ve got about forty-some of these in my festering folder, and a good number of them were (nearly) complete – so I figured I should probably start posting them? That would be smart, aye?

School was more difficult now that she had been reawakened.

 

Before, it had been easy enough to go through the days as if nothing had changed.  As far as she or anyone else knew, nothing had.  Naru was still her best friend, and she didn’t seem to recall the months prior where she had been kept at arm’s length.  She could admire the Girl Genius and the school Amazon from a distance without really knowing she should be closer, and Rei and Minako weren’t around enough for her to know any better.  If anything, Rei was just the gorgeous priestess that worked at a local shrine, and Minako…wasn’t even on her radar.  Life moved on as it had before that fateful day she had rescued a black cat from some bullies.

 

Now, though, things were…more difficult.  Sailor Moon was appearing again, and Umino was back to his rabid fanboying.  Naru seemed reserved and hesitant, as if memories of concern over the extra exhaustion were dancing around her mind just out of reach.  It was harder to stay away from Ami in the halls or Makoto’s tree at lunch.  It was even worse when Naru asked to go to the Hikawa Shrine for a love charm and she had to act like Rei was just the miko that worked at the temple her best friend liked to visit.

 

She refused to wake them, though.  She may not be as strong as the others against the new Cardians that had been popping up, but she was determined to face them alone.  After all they had been through, didn’t the others deserve a chance to be happy?  To be normal?  She couldn’t ask them to become involved again.  She just couldn’t.

 

As it was, though, she had only been back in the game two days and already she was exhausted.

 

She sighed as the doors to the Crown Fruit Parlor slid open with a soft _hiss_.  She had been avoiding her favorite after-school hangout since the first Cardian, too.  It was just too full of memories, of ghosts from…well, it wasn’t exactly _happier_ times, with the constant life-threatening battles and saving the world and everything…but in a way it was.  She didn’t realize how much she would miss the others until…

 

“Usagi!  It’s been ages – I was getting worried!”

 

She looked up, throwing on her best smile for Motoki, and froze as she saw Mamoru sitting at the counter in front of him.  The smile quickly slipped from her lips as he turned to see who Motoki was greeting, and pain lanced through her heart as surprise – but no recognition – flickered across his face.  The pain didn’t make any sense, though – not really.  After all, why would he recognize her?  Just like her former best friends, he had no reason to.  It wasn’t like they were fated to be together or anything…

 

“Sorry, Motoki,” she said, walking up and standing by the empty stool next to Mamoru.  She scrounged around for the best excuse she could come up with.  “I…didn’t do so well on the last algebra test, and I was grounded for a few days.”

 

“That’s not surprising,” Mamoru snickered, and she tried her best to ignore him as Motoki gave her a sympathetic smile.

 

“I’m sorry to hear that, Usagi, but I’m sure you’ll do better on the next one.  Your grades were really improving for a while there,” he said, and she laughed nervously.

 

“Yeah, well –” she started, but Mamoru abruptly stood.  Any excuse died in her throat as her attention shifted (unwillingly) back to him.

 

“Shoot – I’m going to be late for work!  I’ll talk to you later, Motoki!” he said.  He nodded at Usagi, smiling slightly.  “Odango.”

 

“I have a name, you know!” she called after him, the usual line half-hearted at best.  She slumped into the seat and sighed, slouching forward on the counter.  Motoki’s expression turned sad as he reached out and squeezed her shoulder.

 

“Usual?  On me?” he asked, and she smiled slightly at him.

 

“That would be great.  Thanks,” she said, and he nodded as he turned to prepare a sundae.  She jumped as the seat Mamoru had just vacated was suddenly occupied again, making her wonder if she’d ever get a break or if the universe just hated her that much.

 

“Man, what a day!” a male voice said, enunciating each word as he slapped his hand on the counter.  “Motoki, my good man, could you please whip me up one of those divine strawberry milkshakes you’re so good at?”

 

She turned her head and nearly froze as she saw – of all people – _Zoisite_ sitting next to her.  Her jaw dropped, her eyes bugging open, but the man didn’t even notice as he turned to the small girl behind him.  Usagi’s eyes widened further as she saw _Ami_ trying to get his attention.

 

“And you’ll have…hmm…I’m taking you for a vanilla kind of girl,” he said, grinning, and a blush stained Ami’s cheeks as her entire body tensed.

 

“Murphy-san, I agreed to meet you here, but we really must –!” she started, and he blinked at her.

 

“So no on the milkshake?” he asked, and she sighed as she hung her head, a hand coming up to massage her temples.

 

“Mint chocolate chip, please,” she mumbled, and his grin widened.

 

“Not as boring as I thought, then!” he crowed, and her eyes narrowed as he turned back to Motoki.  “One strawberry and one mint chocolate chip!”

 

“I’ll get right on that,” Motoki said, his voice nearly a deadpan as he affectionately rolled his eyes.  He handed Usagi her sundae, and his smile softened.  “Cheer up, Usagi.  A frown doesn’t suit you, you know, and things will get better.”

 

If Zoisite hadn’t just sat down beside her, Ami in toe, she might have had the peace of mind to agree with him.

 

“Furuhata-san?  If you could make those milkshakes to go, please?” Ami asked, and Zoisite pouted at her.  The way he seemed to be blatantly flirting with the Senshi of wisdom would have made her skin crawl if she hadn’t known that was just his nature.

 

“Ami, come on!  It’s just a milkshake!” he said, and Ami leveled him with that Teacher Stare she used to unleash on them during study sessions and Senshi meetings.

 

“Murphy-san, your parents are paying me to tutor you, not go out for milkshakes.  I’ve agreed to try and help you, but you have to meet me at least halfway.  If all you’re going to do is goof off and prove you don’t really care about catching up, then I am going to take my milkshake and go home where I can actually get some work done,” she said, voice firm, and Zoisite sighed as Motoki handed him his milkshake.  His eyebrows were lifted in amusement, and Zoisite scowled at him.  Everything about Motoki’s expression read _Check, match_ , and Usagi wondered how long the two had been coming in for them to form such a familiarity with him.

 

“All right, all right.  We will take our milkshakes and go to that booth over there, and you will continue to prove how much smarter than me you are,” he said, rolling his eyes.  He looked back at her, and Usagi was amazed to see a flash of something…deeper in his eyes.  It was almost like he actually cared about Ami.  Like he…liked her.  But that was crazy.  He was the enemy!  …well, former enemy – and who knew how long that ‘former’ would stay in place?  “But you study too much, Ami.  You need to live a little, you know?  So I’m going to keep forcing milkshakes and fun on you, and you’re going to keep getting paid to be my babysitter – oh come on, you know I don’t really need the tutoring.”

 

“Your parents –” she started to protest, and he held up a hand as Motoki placed her milkshake on the counter.

 

“Need someone to make sure I don’t goof off all the time, especially since I spent the past few months in a coma.  I can get caught up well and fine on my own, but I prefer to not spend every waking moment in the library and cram school.  So they hired you to be my glorified babysitter,” he said, hopping up from his stool and placing the money on the counter.  He nodded to Motoki, who just laughed as he linked arms with Ami and began to lead her towards a booth.  Her face would put one of Mamoru’s roses to shame, Usagi couldn’t help thinking, but the whole picture was still wrong.

 

“It’s ok, Ami.  If he causes too much trouble just hit him.  Zane could use a few more good lumps to the head,” Motoki said, winking, and Ami’s face burned brighter as Zoisite – ‘Zane’? – led her away.  Usagi watched as they reached an empty booth and Zoisite released her arm to bow mockingly, gesturing with an arm for her to sit down.  She looked like she wanted the earth to open up and swallow her whole, but all the same she slid into the booth and began unpacking her bag.  Zoisite looked back to Motoki, gave him an exaggerated wink and thumbs up, and Motoki rolled his eyes as the younger boy plopped into the booth beside her.  She squeaked – borderline shriek, really – loud enough for Usagi to hear across the room, and sat ramrod straight as Zoisite wrapped an arm around her shoulder.  He was laughing again, saying something Usagi couldn’t really catch but seemed to make Ami even more unsettled, and Usagi turned back to Motoki with a desperate sort of panic in her eyes.

 

“Ok, what’s going on there?” she asked, and Motoki blinked at her in confusion.

 

“What’s going on where?” he asked, and Usagi rolled her eyes as she waved to Zoisite and Ami, who both had their backs turned to her.  Motoki frowned as he started wiping out a glass.

 

“Zane and Ami?  Nothing’s going on there.  Well, at least not yet, but if Zane has his way he’ll wear her down eventually,” Motoki said with a laugh.  “The poor guy’s completely smitten.”

 

“…smitten?” she asked, her jaw dropping, and Motoki gave her an odd look.

 

“Yeah.  He really likes her.  He’s had a bit of a rough year.  He was in a bad accident that left him and his older brother hospitalized for a while, and to catch him up in school his parents hired Ami to tutor him.  The poor guy’s completely fallen for her, though, and spends most of their study sessions shamelessly flirting with her,” Motoki explained.  Usagi shook her head, unable to believe what he was telling her.  “He keeps saying he’ll wear her down one of these days, but she’s pretty stubborn herself.”

 

“She’s not stubborn.  She’s focused,” Usagi said indignantly.  “She’s really dedicated to her studies, and she doesn’t let herself get distracted.”

 

“I know, but…I dunno, Usagi,” Motoki said, looking over at the two in question.  Usagi followed his gaze to find Zane was working at something on a paper, and Ami was watching…only she was watching him and not his work, and if Usagi didn’t know better she’d say she looked smitten, too.  What in the world…?  “I think she likes him, too.  She’s just…smart people are like that sometimes.  They’re not good with people.  I think she’d be more comfortable programming a computer than actually flirting back.”

 

“But she can’t like him!” Usagi said, and Motoki blinked at her.

 

“Why?  You don’t like him, do you?” he asked.  She choked, eyes bugging out at him, and he held up his hands defensively.  “What?  You all go to the same school.  How am I supposed to know if you’ve seen him around?”

 

“I do _not_ like him!” Usagi protested.  “He’s nothing like my type!  And I don’t want her to not like him because of me, I want her to not like him because…because she can’t like him!”

 

“Uh-huh,” Motoki said, leveling her with a Look, and she sighed as she shoved a spoonful of sundae into her mouth.  How could she even begin to explain?  Oh, sorry, but she can’t like him because they’re fated enemies from a life long ago and he was just trying to kill all of us like a month ago?  Because he seems sweet and innocent now, but that time in the hospital or whatever he was actually working with an evil witch to take over the world?  And Ami was with her, one of the Sailor Senshi who spent the past few months trying to stop his evil plans?  And did she mention he’s, y’know, EVIL?

 

…yeah, like that would go over real well.

 

“I just don’t think it’d be a good match,” she finally mumbled.  “How…how long have they been coming in here, anyway?”

 

“A week or so now.  They go to the same cram school – probably how his parents heard about her – so they were meeting there for a bit, but in his efforts to sway her affections he suggested they start coming here.  He’s been trying to get her to ease up around him, but I think he’s just flustering her more,” Motoki said with a laugh.  “Usagi, you don’t have anything to worry about.  Zane’s a good guy, and Ami could do a lot worse.  Besides, I didn’t even know you guys were friends.”

 

_I didn’t even know you guys were friends._

 

And that was the crux of the matter, wasn’t it?  They weren’t.  Not anymore.  It was a new life all over again, one where Ami was just Mizuno Ami, girl genius, and Sailor Mercury didn’t even exist.  So if Sailor Mercury didn’t exist, then Zoisite didn’t exist.  They were just…Zane and Ami, and that wasn’t so horrible, was it?  Yet she couldn’t shake that feeling, that nagging voice in her head… _if you could wake up, so can they._   Zane and Ami might yet become Zoisite and Mercury, and if they did…

 

_I didn’t even know you guys were friends._

 

“We’re not,” Usagi finally said, putting her spoon down.  “I…I’m sorry.  I have…I have to get home.  Chores.  Studying.  I’ll…I’ll see you later, Motoki.  Thanks for the sundae.”

 

He watched as she walked out, a frown on his face, but he said nothing to stop her.  She had been acting weird lately, but he knew she would talk if she needed to.  He sighed and picked up her half-eaten sundae, taking it back to clean, when a yelp across the parlor drew his attention back to Zane and Ami.  Ami was beet-red again, and Zane was laughing.  His cheek was a bright red, as if she had slapped him, but she was smiling – just a little, not enough for Zane to call a victory yet, but…

 

Motoki chuckled as he dumped the uneaten ice cream in the trash and washed the cup.  Despite Usagi’s protests, he had a feeling those two would be meeting for more than tutoring sooner rather than later.


	15. Minako's Balls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Look, it’s not my fault,” Minako huffed. “Theresa had no right flirting with you like that, and she had to be put in her place!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: “Minako’s Balls”  
> Fandom: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon  
> Prompt: 309 (Dying)  
> Character/Pairing: Aino Minako, Kassim Kadar/Kunzite, Mizuno Ami, Zane Murphy/Zoisite; Zoisite x Ami, Kunzite x Minako  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen  
> Word Count: 573  
> Summary: “Look, it’s not my fault,” Minako huffed. “Theresa had no right flirting with you like that, and she had to be put in her place!”  
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.  
> Authors Notes: Crystal Tokyo. Ok, so this is totally inspired by a textpost on Tumblr for Miraculous – however, that post cites the original joke as being a Family Guy thing? I’ll be honest: I have never had any interest in Family Guy, so I can only say that’s where they said it came from, but you just know this is totally something Mina would do. (Also yoooo double update! Hey, I said I had forty-something near completion. xP)

“Oh my God,” Zane wheezed, falling back with an arm clutched around his middle, “I’m dying!”

 

Ami looked horrified.

 

“Minako, no,” she gasped, a hand covering her slack jaw.  “Tell me you didn’t.”

 

“Oh, she did,” Kassim said through pursed lips.  His expression was more thunderous than usual.  “She most certainly did.”

 

“Damn straight I did, and I’d do it again!” the blonde in question huffed, folding her arms over her chest.  Kassim threw a book at Zane.  It bounced off his head, which only managed to make him fall over on the couch as he continued cackling.

 

“Zane, dear brother, if you value your life you will _stop laughing_ ,” Kassim hissed.  Zane choked, gulping down his next burst of giggles, as he held up his hands in defense.

 

“O-ok, sorry, but…oh my _God_ , Mina,” he gasped, wiping his eyes.  He sat up straighter and nodded towards his pregnant sister-in-law.  “Please.  Explain to us _exactly_ what happened again?”

 

Really, Ami thought as Minako launched into another retelling of The Incident, she didn’t see why either of the men found it so shocking.  Minako had always been the most brazen Senshi, especially when it came to males.  And she certainly had never been shy about asserting her claim on what she deemed her territory.  It was just how she was, and while Kassim had desperately tried to excuse it away as hormones and Pregnancy Brain, Ami was certain Minako’s antics of earlier would have happened even if he hadn’t knocked her up four months prior.

 

“Look, it’s not my fault,” Minako huffed when Kassim gave her another _Look_.  “Theresa had no right flirting with you like that – and _yes_ , dear husband, she _was_ flirting, ok, I’m the Senshi of Love _I know these things_ – and she had to be put in her place!”

 

“So you decided to harass Kassim at work,” Ami said, rubbing her temples.  “Naturally.”

 

“Aaaaami!” Minako whined, turning teary eyes on her.  “You’re supposed to be on my side in this – Zane is!”

 

“Oh, I so am!  In fact, I’m so on your side, I would pay you to do it again!” Zane cackled.  The laughs cut off in a yelp when Kassim slapped him upside the head.  When his brother glowered at him, Zane winked.  “Oh, I’d hire a tart to flirt with you just to get her to do it again.  You know I would.”

 

“Unfortunately, I do,” Kassim sighed.  Minako rolled her eyes as she leaned back on the opposite couch, a hand resting comfortingly on her rounding belly.

 

“I still don’t see what the big deal is,” she groused.  “I was just making sure the bint knew her place.  Kass is _clearly_ spoken for, and I didn’t want her forgetting it.”

 

“Mina,” Kassim sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “you marched onto the training field, grabbed my balls, and proceeded to declare to everyone present, ‘This is mine!  This is where my babies come from!’  It was a very big deal.”

 

Ami sighed again as Zane howled, actually falling off the couch as he started cackling again (because “Oh, yes, a _very_ big deal!”).  She quietly excused herself, deciding she needed a nice, strong cup of tea as Kassim and Minako started arguing the finer points of Appropriate Workplace Behavior and Sexual Harassment (“ _Yes, Minako, It’s Still Harassment Even If It’s Your Wife!”)_ again.

 

“Dying!” Zane wheezed from his place under the coffee table.  “I’m dying!”


	16. A Blue-Violet Zoisite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (La Reconquista.) Ami falls into a depression after returning from the Dark Kingdom. Usagi hopes she can help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> La Reconquista. Wrote this shortly after watching it, then let it fester thinking I wanted to rewatch before posting – but…it’s been sitting here forever, and it feels kinda complete, so I’m just gonna post it? (All that being said, I still wanna know which general pulled up the YT vids of OneDirection and said, “Hey, guys, let’s do this – it’s a great idea!”) And also: the idea kinda came from his line in “Erosion Boy”, ‘cause he’s a stone now, right, and what if…?

_she says she’s ashamed, can she take me for a while?_

_can I be a friend?  we’ll forget the past_

_well, maybe I’m not able – and I break at the bend._

_we’re here and now – will we ever be again…?_

_‘cause I have found all that shimmers in this world is sure to fade...away…again…_

_it’s too far away for me to hold…too far away…_

_“shimmer” – fuel / boyce avenue_

 

Nobody had really seen Ami since returning from the Dark Kingdom.  Once the battle was over and everyone returned home safely, she had slapped on a smile and continued through the celebrations with the others.  But while the rest of them had spent a few hours at the Crown Fruit Parlor, she had sat through one round of milkshakes before quietly excusing herself, claiming to be tired.  They had exchanged worried looks as they watched her go, noting her milkshake was barely half-finished and melting where she left it.

 

She hadn’t really sought them out at school, either.  She drifted through classes, answering questions when called on but otherwise subdued.  Ami was usually quiet, but there was a focused determination to her quiet.  Now she just seemed…lost.

 

After two weeks of this behavior, they called an emergency meeting.  None of the girls could figure it out.  They would immediately blame her behavior on the Generals’ plot to woo them, but Ami was above all that.  Rei was adamant in believing Ami had not fallen for the ploy, but Makoto was quick to remind her of the fears that had sent them after her in the first place: even geniuses fall in love once.  Minako was still hesitant to agree, claiming that regardless of how the ‘date’ went any feelings should have been nullified upon learning the Pandemic 4 were actually from the Dark Kingdom.  Usagi, who had remained quiet throughout the meeting, chose then to speak up.

 

“But…you guys, would they have?  Don’t you remember what we saw on the Moon?” she asked, her voice quiet.  “Ami doesn’t usually concern herself with boys, not even back then.  But we were all teasing her about Zoisite…”

 

She didn’t want to continue.  She wasn’t even sure if she should – she wasn’t entirely sure about what she had heard, after all.  They had all been so busy fighting, but she had been the closest one to Mercury when Kunzite attacked her.  ‘He cried out your name when I turned him to stone,’ he’d said.  At least that’s what she thought she heard.

 

“It’s Ami’s first broken heart,” she said instead.  “So we should just give her time.  She’ll come to us when she’s ready.”

 

She stood then, slipping out her phone as she left the temple.  The others watched her go, protests dying on their lips as she shut the door behind them.  As she walked down the steps, she hit _send_.  He answered on the second ring.

 

“Mamo-chan?  Yes.  Do you still have that blue stone from the battle?  Of course.  Can you met me…”

 

– V –

 

It was raining again.

 

The thought barely passed through her sluggish mind.  Just enough to make her curl in tighter on herself as she stared out the window.  She leaned forward, her forehead pressing against the cool glass, as her eyes shut.  The umbrella from the other day was propped against the wall by her door, as if it was just waiting for her to run back outside and meet…she still wasn’t sure how it got there.  She hadn’t had a chance to return home between their date and getting captured, and yet it had still been there – waiting for her in her room – when she had returned.

 

Thunder rumbled, and her eyes squeezed shut again.

 

_“I’ll run and get an umbrella real quick.”_

 

Her homework was still sitting open on her desk.  She had barely touched it.  She hadn’t actually missed any assignments yet, but her work was subpar at best – definitely not the usual ‘Genius Ami’ her teachers had come to expect.  She could see the concerned glances – from friends, teachers, and people she didn’t even know – but she just couldn’t care.  Somehow, she just couldn’t seem to care.

 

She should know better, of course.  She was the smart one.  The practical one.  The one who considered finding a man number thirty on her priorities list, and even then only a man of Einstein’s caliber could turn her critical eye.  She was the one who had deduced the Pandemic 4 were actually the generals of the Dark Kingdom they had spent the past months fighting, and she was the one who had clued in on their seduction game.  She _knew_ better.  She just hadn’t known.

 

None of them had.

 

She hadn’t expected him to be so annoyingly persistent.  She hadn’t expected him to willingly accept her handkerchief when she couldn’t offer her hand, and she certainly hadn’t expected him to so readily engage in her little mental challenge.  More than any of that, she hadn’t expected the sudden rush of familiarity, of _rightness_ , his mere presence had brought.  When he smiled at her with those clear green eyes, she hadn’t expected the rush of warmth to flood her heart and cause it to flip-flop in her chest.  She hadn’t expected any of it because she didn’t get distracted by things as petty as pretty boys with pretty smiles and pretty eyes.

 

But he had been so sweet…so achingly familiar.  And then his true identity had been revealed, and while she hadn’t been surprised she had been shocked by his determination to protect her.  How he had guarded her, even after throwing her in the cell under Beryl’s orders.  How he had continued to sneak off to her, to speak with her…and then, suddenly, in the moonlight…she had remembered.

 

Goddess above, how she wished she hadn’t _remembered_ …

 

“Ami?  Sweetie?” her mother asked, knocking lightly on the door.  She moaned and curled in on herself, hugging a pillow tightly to her chest.  She hadn’t thought avoiding her mother would be difficult, given her late hours, but when Dr. Mizuno had noticed the withdrawn treatment her daughter was giving her she had begun coming home early.  She knew it was just her mother showing concern, but she wasn’t ready or willing to discuss what had transpired.  How could she?  How could her mother ever understand that she had had her heart broken by someone who had initially been sent to kill her?

 

“Sweetie, your friend Usagi is here,” her mother tried again when she failed to give a response.  She felt her body tense at the news.  Avoiding her mother was easy enough when the woman could never hope to understand, but Usagi had been right in the thick of it with her.  Usagi had…how could she ever hide any of it from Usagi, who would understand better than anyone the pain gripping her?

 

“I don’t know what to do, Usagi,” she heard her mother say after a moment of prolonged silence.  “She’s been so depressed lately, but she won’t talk to me about it.  Did something happen at school?  I can’t imagine all this would be over a bad test score, and I hadn’t heard anything from her teachers…”

 

“No, it’s…it’s nothing like that,” she heard Usagi say.  Even her usually ever-bubbly friend sounded subdued.  “Can I just go in and talk to her?”

 

“Yes, go on in…you might have more luck than me, being her friend and everything…” her mother quickly said, and she winced at the words.  There was a bit of shuffling as her mother walked away.  The door creaked open, and Usagi poked her head into the room.  She barely caught her eye before she looked back out towards the rainy city.

 

“Hey, Ami…” Usagi said, her voice soft.  “I know you probably don’t want to talk to me right now, but…we’re all worried about you, Ami.”

 

Usagi walked over to her and hopped onto the bed beside her.  She leaned against the wall, following her gaze to the rainstorm through the window, and she smiled slightly.  Her tone was sad as she said, “I know better than to ask if you’re ok…and I know you’ll talk to us when you’re ready.  But…just know we’re here, ok?”

 

She didn’t respond, but she didn’t really think Usagi was expecting her to.  The girl was incredibly perceptive when she wanted to be; she was probably fully aware of how, if she did respond, she would break down.  She had a feeling if she started crying now she would never be able to stop.  The next few minutes passed in silence, comfortable if strained from the weight of her grief.  She pulled her knees closer to her chest, losing herself in the sound of the rain and remembering how it sounded against the umbrella.  Remembering how it felt for the briefest of moments when she had unconsciously jumped into his embrace, startled by the thunder…only to move away again when she realized what she had done.  Looking back, she wished she had lingered just a moment.  More than anything, it wasn’t the familiarity of the embrace that had shocked her.  It was her own fear at her boldness.

 

“Hey…” Usagi started, but she didn’t turn to face her as she continued speaking.  “Mamo-chan found this when we got back.  It was his punishment for helping you, but in the end he ended up keeping Mamo-chan safe like this.  I guess it was only right.  They were his personal guard back then, you know – just like you guys were mine.  Anyway, we were talking, and…well, we agreed that you should have him.  It just seemed right, you know?”

 

She finally tore her eyes from the window, confusion clouding their sapphire depths as she looked at Usagi.  The girl wore a hesitant smile, and her hand was extended between them.  When her eyes slipped down to her hand, they widened at what the girl held in her palm.  A pristine stone, a blue-violet zoisite that comfortably covered her entire palm.  She hesitantly reached out, her fingers pausing just short of brushing against the stone.

 

“Ami,” Usagi said, and Ami looked up at her with terrified eyes.  “It’s all you have left of him.”

 

The reminder seemed to be all the encouragement she needed, or perhaps the last hit to destroy her resolve.  She carefully plucked the stone from Usagi’s hand, and she gasped as it came into contact with her skin.  She had expected the stone to be cool, but the moment it touched her palm a sense of warmth engulfed her like an embrace.  She could hear the ghost of his laugh in her ear, feel the brush of phantom lips against her cheek…and she almost dropped the stone in surprise.  Yet she held on, grasping it tighter as the feelings overwhelmed her.

 

“Usagi…” she whispered, her voice croaking from disuse, “he’s dead…because of me…”

 

It was like the dam breaking, and suddenly she couldn’t hold back the emotions that had been slowly eating away inside ever since her brief time in the Dark Kingdom.  She clutched the stone to her chest, sobs wracking her small frame.  The ghostly arms were replaced by tangible ones, real comfort being offered by one of the greatest friends she had ever known, and all she could do was collapse in on herself and cry.  It wasn’t fair!  None of it was fair!  He had helped her, had believed in her despite not having his memories back, and they had killed him for it!  Had turned him into this stone, when he should be real and next to her and goddess, why had she never told him?  Why had she always feigned at being just his friend when she actually felt so much more?  The time had been stolen from them – stolen from them all – and then, just as they were maybe getting a second chance…

 

“He’s gone, Usagi,” she said, her voice sounding so small and broken in her distress.  “All of us died, but we came back.  We came back again and again.  Why didn’t he?”

 

“I don’t know, Ami,” Usagi said.  “I’m sorry.  I don’t know.”

 

Usagi held her as she cried, somehow knowing this was the first time her usually reserved friend had probably let the tears fall.  She sat back, silent as she cried herself out.  Eventually the sobs settled into labored breaths and the occasional shudder, but it seemed she had finally cried herself out.  Usagi rubbed her back and sighed, resting her cheek against the crown of her friend’s head.

 

“You shouldn’t feel so guilty, Ami,” she said.  “He sacrificed himself for you.  It wasn’t your fault – it was his choice.  And isn’t that a choice that shows just how much he cared?”

 

She made a noise that was somewhere between a whimper and a moan, and Usagi sighed as she rubbed her back again.  It was about an hour later, most of the time spent in silence with the occasional conversation about random anythings thrown in, that Usagi left.  Ami promised to call her the next day, saying that she did feel better and maybe would join the girls at the parlor for a milkshake.  She heard Usagi talking to her mother briefly in the hall, but her mother didn’t approach her door again.

 

The stone felt heavy in her hand.  She hadn’t let go of it… _him_ since taking him from Usagi.  Her thumb brushed along the smooth surface, and she took a deep breath as another tear slipped from her eye.  She was so sick of crying…so sick of feeling so miserable and helpless and missing him.  Her body curled in on itself as she laid down, the stone held close to her heart.

 

“I’m sorry, Zoisite,” she whispered.  She brought the stone up to her lips, placing a soft kiss against the stone.  She hated that she had remembered him only to have him reduced to pieces: an umbrella in the corner and a stone in her hand.  She hated that she cared, that she had been foolish enough to fall for him…that she hadn’t fought the feelings harder, that she had so willingly gone along with him.  She hated that she hated how much she hated it.  “I’m so sorry…”

 

– V –

 

Much later, after night had descended on the world and she had fallen asleep curled underneath the window, the rain rolled out and the gentle moonlight shone brightly through her room.  Her sleeping form was bathed in its glow.  Despite the calm, her expression was twisted with the nightmares that haunted her.  In her hand, still clutched protectively and pressed against her lips, was the blue-violet stone that had once upon a time been her lover.  Her expression smoothed as she sighed his name, and suddenly a new glow filled the room with its light.  A light blue glow emanated from the stone and covered her in its warmth, and she sighed as her subconscious registered the caress.  A calm seemed to settle over her as the stone dissolved in the light, and suddenly it wasn’t light holding her but two very real, very solid arms.  Emerald eyes twinkled in wonder as the man pulled her back against his chest, his face burrowing into her neck as he breathed her in.

 

He wasn’t about to ask why.  They could face the consequences in the morning, together.  For now he was simply content to lie with her and hold her close.


	17. A Little Light Beach Reading

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zane questions Ami’s choice of Appropriate Beach Book as they pack for a trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: “A Little Light Beach Reading”  
> Fandom: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon  
> Prompt: 403 (Why?)  
> Character/Pairing: Mizuno Ami, Zane Murphy/Zoisite; Zoisite x Ami  
> Rating: K+ / PG / All Ages  
> Word Count: 751   
> Summary: Zane questions Ami’s choice of Appropriate Beach Book as they pack for a trip.  
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.  
> Authors Notes: College-age/pre-Crystal Tokyo. When I graduated, my graduation present to myself was a Mad Hatter mug and a copy of David Crystal’s The Story of English in 100 Words, and a friend gave me no end of grief because a book pertaining to your major is not summer reading. When it’s David Crystal, I argued, it most certainly is. (And it’s not like I was reading through his A Dictionary of Linguistics and Phonetics…again.)

They were almost ready, Zane mused as he glanced at the clock, and it was a good thing, too.  They had maybe twenty minutes before they had to meet the others at the temple, and it was still a ten-minute walk from their flat.  Granted, he’d concede that most of the time taken in preparation had been his fault – it usually was.  Ami was a baffling conundrum at times.  He’d never understand how she could throw herself together in ten minutes or less when it took him at least an hour.  Even when packing, she was always one less bag, hour, and headache ahead of him.

 

“Oi, mo chara, you almost ready?” he asked, rifling through their beach bag one last time.  Towels?  Check.  Extra-strength sunblock?  Double check.  Sunglasses and floppy hats?  Check.  Sand-proof snacks?  Check.  (He shuddered as he remembered the last beach trip and the sandwiches with the homemade peanut butter Makoto had brought.  Yes, they were delicious, but the peanut butter had a naturally gritty texture that did not belong that close to sand.)  “We’re gonna be late!”

 

“I’ve been ready,” she huffed as she emerged from their bedroom carrying a small book.  “I just had to grab this.”

 

Uh-oh, he thought when she waved the book at him.  She went to slip it in the bag, and he deftly snatched it from her fingers.  A Pocket Guide to the New Revisions for Medical Coding.  His eyebrows soared as he looked over at her.  She didn’t even seem embarrassed, or that she even got why he was giving her a Look.  She could recognize the Look, right?  It was a rather obvious Look he was giving her, wasn’t it?

 

“Ami,” he said, voice serious, and she frowned at him.

 

“Zane?” she asked, and he groaned.

 

“Saints above, mo chara, at least _try_ to be a normal human being and bring some softcore beach porn!” he groused, and she sucked in a gasping breath so quick she actually _squeaked_.  He cocked a brow at her, but her face was already ten shades of scarlet.  “I mean, I don’t really want you reading at all since you should be paying attention to me, but I get that it’s you, and I brought a book, too, but…this is _not_ beach reading, Ami!”

 

“It could be!” she protested, snatching it back from his hands.  At least she seemed moderately embarrassed now, though he had a feeling that had more with his suggestion she read a trashy romance novel than the fact that she was bringing a medical coding book on their beach day.  “It’s going to be!  I’m going to read it at the beach, ergo beach book!”

 

“But you’re not _supposed_ to!  Beach books are…light, frivolous, complete and utter garbage – they’re not…you would read this for a class!” he complained, and she bit her lower lip as she looked away.  His eyebrows rose even higher, if possible.  In any case he was sure they were no longer visible beneath his bangs.  “…you’re reading it for a class.  Mizuno Ami, are you reading this book for a class?”

 

“Mamoru leant it to me to help prepare for the coding class next term,” she mumbled, and honestly it was all too much.  She was absurd.  Ridiculous.  And…saints above, so perfectly, preciously _Ami_.

 

“You…are… _impossible_ ,” he gasped, laughter choking out his words.  After all, what else could he do but laugh?  You don’t bring textbooks to the beach, but apparently his girlfriend did.  She was psychotic.

 

“Are you quite done?” she huffed, folding her arms over her chest as she glared at him.  He continued to wheeze, shaking his head as tears filled his eyes.  “I seem to recall someone saying we were in danger of being late.”

 

“Oh, sod it – you know they won’t leave without us,” he chuckled as he wiped his eyes.  He clasped both hands on either side of her face, a brilliant grin curling his lips as he looked at her.  “You…Ami, I love you.  You know that?  I really, really love you.”

 

“I would hope so,” she huffed, “otherwise I’d be concerned about what I’m doing here.”

 

He dipped down, kissing her soundly as he continued chuckling.  He gave her book a final aggrieved look before tossing it in the bag.

 

“I will personally make sure she doesn’t crack you,” he told it with a stern wag of his finger.  He was still grinning as he turned back to her and snagged her hand.  “All right, you – let’s go!”


	18. Burnout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zane devises a way to give his girlfriend a much-needed mental break from her studies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: “Burnout”  
> Fandom: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon  
> Prompt: 508 (Overwhelmed)  
> Character/Pairing: Mizuno Ami, Zane Murphy/Zoisite; Zoisite x Ami  
> Rating: K+ / PG / All Ages  
> Word Count: 3,225   
> Summary: Zane devises a way to give his girlfriend a much-needed mental break from her studies.  
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.  
> Authors Notes: College-age/pre-Crystal Tokyo. Guys, like…apparently there are a crap ton of these that I started during senior year? Like apparently this one was a break from HIEU 202, when I was facing my own thesis-induced burnout, and I didn’t even realize it’s been sitting here I guess done for like…two years? Three? What even. (Apologizing in advance. Like…it’s not the worst, but at the same time I reread it, thought ‘What the ever-loving hell?’, made the minor required edits, and decided to post with a great big helping of NOPE.)

Among the circles of the academic, there was a boogeyman of sorts hiding in the closet.  It was always there, just on the outskirts, constantly waiting to pounce on every student, professor, and researcher the moment their watchful eye leaves it.  It was the product of long nights, too many pages of technical texts, PDF after PDF of peer-reviewed journals, and not enough sleep.  It was accompanied by that feeling of bone-exhaustion, the one that said you’d only had three hours of sleep that week when you know you’ve had at least four a night.  Six, if you’re really lucky.  It was the beast Ami was currently facing as she stared at the textbook on her desk, her eyes crossing and uncrossing as she realized she had been rereading the same sentence for at least five minutes.

 

This beast, not so mythical but as unwelcome as a hydra, was the Burnout.

 

It happened every so often, usually after a particularly stressful bout of intensive study.  She remembered it all too well from that summer after prepping the girls for their high school entrance exams.  She was acutely feeling it now as she entered her first semester of her final year at university.  She had actually been rather fortunate, in the end.  She had crammed as many university courses as she could in her high school curriculum, so by the time she was ready to enter university she only had two years of major-specific classes to barrel through.  Now she was preparing to tackle the next beast before her, medical school, but…while her dreams had not changed, and while she was still determined to get as much school in as possible before the thousand-year ice age that would precede the Crystal Millennium, she was exhausted.

 

It all stemmed from one problem, in her mind: a lower-level history course that, compared to the upper-level classes she was doing project after presentation after paper in, was a joke.  It had been an oversight on her part, really, and a foolish one at that.  She had thought the history class she had taken in high school, along with her other college credits, would transfer.  She hadn’t realized her university didn’t acknowledge that particular course until an e-mail from her advisor the previous semester had drawn her eyes to the fact.  So there she was, barely under two semesters away from graduation and taking a two hundred-level history course.  She had opted for the online program, which had condensed the course into the first half of the semester, and while she normally didn’t mind the cramming and rushed schedule…she was finding this course to be rather tedious.

 

She loved history – truly, she did.  But while she normally found such enjoyment in her books, this particular text was…well, dry.  The authors had gone about a very straightforward, bland approach to telling the story of the past, and she found herself criticizing the book more often than not.  She had even gone as far as assuming voices to read the various passages, hoping that a bit of acting might liven the book up a bit.  Ok, fine…she had gone as far as having her boyfriend Zane assume voices to read the various passages, but he was so much more animated and theatrical than she was.  Even that had failed to work, as more often than not her favorite drama queen would overact and leave her in stitches as she tried to snatch the book away from him.  One thing always led to another, and before she knew it two hours had passed and she hadn’t even thought of her abandoned textbook.

 

Speaking of…

 

“You’ve been sitting here for two hours straight, mo chara.  Without a single break,” Zane murmured against her neck as he bent down beside her, his arms coming up to wrap securely about her shoulders.  He nuzzled his face against the crook of her neck, and her nose twitched as his curly copper hair tickled her.  She shoved him back and rolled her eyes.

 

“Stop it, Zane,” she said.  “I have to finish this chapter.  I only have…six pages left.”

 

“Six pages?!  Girseach, you’ve been reading for two hours, and you’ve still six pages to go?!” he asked, his jaw dropping as he gaped at her.  She marveled at the way his brogue always seemed to come out thicker when he was passionate about something.  Honestly, she was just impressed he had kept the Gaelic limited to his terms of endearment – usually by this point he had switched into full-on Irish Swearing.  “You said the chapter was only twenty pages long!”

 

“…it is,” she mumbled, a light blush staining her face as she ducked her head and focused more intently on her book.  He sighed and pulled her chair out, ignoring the squeak she emitted as she scrambled to grab the table.  He hit his knees and slipped in between her legs, resting his arms on her thighs and staring up at her with his best _But I’m Adorable, Wouldn’t You Rather Pay Attention To Me?_ face.

 

“You, mo chara, need a _break_ ,” he said firmly.  “And I won’t be taking ‘no’ for an answer.”

 

“But Zane, I can’t stop now!  Not when I only have six pages left!  I can stop after those six pages.  I promise I will, I just –” she protested, and he rocked up to silence her with a chaste kiss.  He leaned back slightly, his face level with hers as he gave her his sternest look.

 

“Mo chara,” he said, his voice firm, “how long’ve you been reading that last page?”

 

“Pardon?” she asked, his question catching her off guard.

 

“The last page.  Or just the last paragraph.” he compromised, and she looked off to the side to avoid his gaze.  Her lips pursed, and he knew she wouldn’t be giving him an answer.  “My point exactly, Ami.  Take.  A.  Break.  You’ll burn yourself out, mo chara.”

 

It was a dirty blow, and they both knew it.

 

The first time she had met Zane – well, the first time in this life that she counted, excluding her first year as a Senshi when he was still brainwashed and trying to kill her – had been during her last major burnout.  She had been a senior in high school, and she was coming off the gambit of exams, letters, and applications that went along with preparing for university.  She had even crammed in a three-month intensive EFL course in case she was accepted into one of the American or English universities she had applied to.  When she added that to the rigorous coursework, cram school, and tutoring sessions with the girls that had been her high school life, she had been…well, exhausted.  She remembered the acceptance letters that came pouring in, some from schools she hadn’t even applied to but were desperate to get the young genius, and more than that she remembered the total apathy she greeted them with.  While her mother exulted in her brilliance and called everyone in the family to let them know Ami had had her choice of anywhere she wanted (which had surprised no one, really), she had seen the options as a wide, gaping chasm instead of the road they promised to be.  She had been exhausted, and she had been terrified.

 

A sporadic trip to the local aquarium had changed everything.

 

She had been standing before a tank that stretched to the ceiling filled with massive jellyfish.  She had been completely entranced by the way they swam, gracefully undulating as if they were no more than the water that surrounded them.  She had found herself suddenly envious of the creatures whose entire existence was swimming through the sea, and she had let herself wonder what it would be like to have so few worries…

 

_Her eyes slipped closed as she let her imagination take flight, carrying her far from the aquarium where she stood.  While their lives had been peaceful since the defeat of Chaos that first year of high school, Ami found herself feeling more weary than she ever had, even in the midst of the fiercest battle.  It was a mental exhaustion that was pervading every aspect of her life, and for once she almost found herself wishing for a youma to pop up and give her an excuse to fight.  Youma were simple.  They appeared, she fought them, and she won.  They weren’t major life choices weighing on her from every angle.  They were easy._

_Her eyes opened, and she was startled to see…was that a water lily?  A water lily blossom, held out before her by an arm that disappeared off to her side._

_“A beauty as yourself should never look so tragic,” a melodic voice behind her said.  Though the Japanese was flawless, a thick accent still moved awkwardly around the finer phones of her native tongue.  She turned her head curiously, and she was caught off guard by a captivating, terrifyingly familiar pair of emerald eyes.  Eyes that belonged to a man she had thought long dead.  Eyes she had prayed she would never see again._

_“Zoisite…” she gasped, adrenaline suddenly rushing through her as she took a defensive step back.  He blinked at her, something sparking in his eyes at the name but otherwise apparently lost at the reference._

_“Pardon?  Nah, sorry, name’s Zane.  Though I do have a pretty impressive zoisite crystal back in my dorm,” he said with a grin, and then he blinked as a light blush stained his cheeks.  “Ah…sorry, that came out really wrong.  It really is just a crystal back at my dorm.  And I’m not inviting you back there or anything, ‘cause I just met you and all that, but not that I wouldn’t!  I mean, you’re quite lovely, but I would never think you were that kind of girl – unless you are, in which case I entirely respect your life choices, and go you, but I’m not really that kind of guy.  And what I’m meaning to say is…well, I saw you over here, and you looked really pretty, and I just wanted to say…hi.  My name’s Zane.”_

_As his excuses spiraled, the flirting turning into more and more of a rambling train wreck, his flawless Japanese had begun faltering.  He stuttered and stumbled over the words, his hand gesturing uselessly and snapping at times as he tried to place the right word, until he finally huffed and said his hellos in English – enchanting, brogued Irish-accented English.  By the end, his face was a deeper scarlet than the skirt she wore.  He held up his free hand, the water lily still extended in the other, and gave her a sheepish smile.  Despite the hesitation at his similarity to the enemy she had known, she suddenly found herself…quite at ease.  Amused.  Laughing, actually – a nervous sort of giggle she quickly clamped her hands over her mouth to hide, and then he was laughing with her.  She found she really enjoyed his laugh: it was rich and melodic, dancing through those beautiful eyes even as his smile crinkled the edges.  She found she also really enjoyed that smile._

_“I really just botched that up, didn’t I, girseach?” he asked, his grin boyish and infectious.  He raised his hand a little, wiggling his fingers at her.  “Try that again, shall we?  Hi.  My name’s Zane, and if you can’t tell I think you’re gorgeous, which is really the only explanation for that fantastic display of shoving my foot in my mouth back there.  Pretty girls tend to do that to boys, you know.”_

_He leaned in a bit in a conspiratorial fashion, giving her a wink to emphasize his words.  She felt her blush had to be as fierce as his was, though thankfully his cheeks had settled into a more rosy hue compared to the fire engine they had just been._

_“I’m sorry,” she said.  “You just…you reminded me of someone I knew once, and it caught me off guard.  And thank you, but I think you must be mistaken.  I’m no beauty.”_

_“Ah, then you’re the one who’s mistaken, girseach,” he said, “because I happen to find you very, very beautiful.”_

_“You certainly are a charmer, aren’t you?” she asked, ducking her head, and he smiled._

_“Charming enough to get a name?” he asked, and she bit her lip before looking up at him from under  her lashes.  A dazed look seemed to come over his face as he watched her, and when she finally took his hand she started at the shot of electricity that went up her arm._

_“Ami,” she said, and he grinned again in that dopey sort of way he had._

_“Ami…I like it,” he said, and she smiled again as her cheeks tinged red.  “No, actually, I think I love it.”_

 

They had spent the rest of the day in the little café near the dolphin tank, and she had told him about the sense of apathy that had recently taken her over.  He had flirted and charmed, yet he had always grown serious when he sensed she needed it.  He had encouraged her, told her of his own academic plans (he was an international student at the local university, nearing the end of his second year in an engineering degree), and by the end of the day she had felt completely refreshed.  Refocused.  She had marveled at that as he walked her home, and he had of course taken all the credit and extolled his ‘magical powers’.  She had called him a clown and playfully shoved him, and he had caught her hand to pull her with him.  They had stumbled to a stop under the streetlight outside her condo’s building, and he had held her close to his chest while her heart raced.

 

_“I want to see you again, Ami,” he whispered, his hand coming up to brush the backs of his fingers against her cheek.  “Please say yes.”_

_“I…” her breath caught in her throat, and before she could explain what was happening he had dipped his head and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips.  She blinked, dazed and shocked by his forwardness.  “O-ok.”_

 

She hadn’t been able to get rid of him since then.  It was much later, of course, that the memories started resurfacing for both of them.  After Mamoru had discovered that the stones of the Shitennou were missing.  After she was already too far lost in the vainglorious goofball that was Zane Murphy.  After she had already, unwittingly, given her heart a second time to the Northern King.  The day the memories had broken through had not been an easy one, and yet…they had worked through it.  Laid it all on the table and came out stronger.  She understood it hadn’t been him, and yet at some level had always been him – at least in his mind, that part that would never fully escape the guilt that came from betraying his prince, the kingdom, and his love.  But she loved him, then and now, and what else could she have done?

 

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, mo chara?” his voice drew her back to the present, and she looked back to her textbook lying on the desk.

 

“Maybe I should just pick it up in the morning…” she mumbled, sighing as she reached out and closed the book.  He grinned, leaning forward to kiss her forehead.

 

“See?  I told you you needed it,” he said.  “Besides, what are you?  Four chapters ahead already?”

 

“Only two…” she mumbled, and he laughed as he stood back and pulled her out of the chair.  She gave a startled squeak as the wheeled chair flew out behind her as she tumbled forward, but he was waiting to catch her.  Her nose found itself nestled between his open flannel shirt and old, worn t-shirt, and her eyes closed as she breathed in the familiar scent that was him.

 

“Then let me take you out for ice cream and stretch those pretty legs,” he said.  “And then we can come back here and veg out on chick flicks all night.  _Princess Bride_ , and I might even let you watch _Leap Year_.”

 

She found herself giggling at that as she snuggled closer to him.  He must be worried if he was laying that on the table.  He was morally against the film, as he said it did a horrible job of representing his home (really, he just didn’t like the actors or the fact that it was a chick flick).  It was personally one of her favorites, mainly because it reminded her of him.

 

“In fact, since you have no Saturday classes, I think I’ll demand that you not pick up that book until Sunday.  Take a day off, for Pete’s sake, and spend some time with your wonderful, incredibly gorgeous boyfriend,” he continued.  He twirled her about in a slow dance, and she laughed as she was brought back close to his chest.  “Maybe I’ll take you to that aquarium I found you again at.  We can see the jellyfish.  You seemed to fancy ‘em.”

 

“Are you monopolizing my time?” she asked, lifting a brow at him, and he shrugged innocently.

 

“Maybe,” he said.  He leaned close, kissing her nose.  “But you can’t deny you don’t need it.  I see the look, Ami, and I’m not letting you wear yourself out when you’re this close to finishing.  Take a break with me, recharge that beautiful brain of yours, and then I’ll let you study to your heart’s content.  You’ve my solemn oath as an Irishman.”

 

“Hmm…nope, I don’t think that’ll work,” she said.  She gave him a conspiratorial wink.  “Known too many Irishmen.”

 

He blinked at her a moment before a raucous laugh tripped from him.  He shook his head as he pulled her close, hugging her tight.

 

“You cruel girl!” he laughed.  “But fair enough!  All right, my solemn oath as a Shitennou!”

 

“That’s no good either – known too many of those, too,” she teased, and she gasped as he pushed her up against the wall.  She hadn’t realized he had so effectively cornered her in their little dance.

 

“All right then, you little minx,” he said, tipping her chin up.  “My solemn oath as Zoisite, Zane Murphy, lover of the Mercurian princess Ami Mizuno, who I hope very soon will be Ami Murphy, because doesn’t that just have the nicest ring to it?”

 

“You’re a bit presumptuous, my lord,” she chided, and he frowned.

 

“Then you wouldn’t accept this?” he asked, and she frowned in confusion before she noticed the ring he was holding up to her.  It was a delicate silver claddagh, perfect in its simplicity.  The arms wound about the band in an intricate series of knots, and the heart held snugly between the hands was a startling blue stone – tanzanite, she knew.  She gasped as she looked up at him, her eyes large, and he grinned.

 

“Zane…” she whispered, her voice catching in her throat.  “Zoisite…”

 

“How ‘bout it, mo chara?  You ready to make this go a permanent kind of thing?” he asked, and her smile softened as she reached up and clasped his hand in her own.

 

“Silly man,” she whispered, holding her fingers up for him to slip the ring on, “wasn’t it already?”


	19. Avoiding Zane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ami has been avoiding Zane since Luna restored their memories. He’s not having any more of that, thank you very much. (Continuation of “Ami and…Zane?”).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: “Avoiding Zane”  
> Fandom: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon  
> Prompt: 407 (Destiny)  
> Character/Pairing: Mizuno Ami, Zoisite/Zane Murphy; Zoisite x Ami  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen  
> Word Count: 10,871  
> Summary: Ami has been avoiding Zane since Luna restored their memories. He’s not having any more of that, thank you very much. (Continuation of “Ami and…Zane?”).  
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.  
> Authors Notes: R, after the Doom Tree arc/Mamoru is awakened. Continuation of Ch13 (“Ami and…Zane?”). This one…really, really ran away from me.

i don’t know what to do once this gets started

i never meant to be so broken-hearted…

“birthday girl” . matt nathanson

 

Ami took a deep, steadying breath as her hand landed on the doorknob to the condo she shared with her mother.  Her eyes closed as the breath shot a wince of pain through her, and not for the first time did she question her decision to not let Makoto accompany her home.  The thought was dismissed as soon as it crossed her mind.  She was sore, yes, but Makoto was much worse off.  They had both avoided a trip to the hospital, but – in Makoto’s case – just barely.  For her part, Ami knew the sprained ankle she had limped home on, along with the potentially bruised ribs and the bandaged gash hidden under her sweater sleeve, should be healed by morning.  Makoto would also benefit from their accelerated healing abilities, but she still wouldn’t be at school the next day.

 

They were all getting stronger, it was true, but that wasn’t much of a comfort when this new enemy seemed stronger yet.  The Cardians had been bad enough, but this Black Moon…she would feel worlds better once they knew more.  Those strange women with the inverted crescents on their foreheads, the sudden breakup between Usagi and Mamoru so soon after his awakening, the mysterious Chibi-usa that had taken up residence in the Tsukino home…

 

She winced again as she pushed open the door.  What she needed right now was a nice, hot…why were the lights on?

 

“…Mom?” she called, pausing just inside the doorway to the condo.  Saeko’s dark head popped out of the kitchen a moment later, worry creasing her face.

 

“Ami!  Sweetheart, where have you been?” she cried as she came over to her.  “I was so worried…no note, no call, no anything – Ami, I know you’re growing up, but you know better than to be out this late without any notice!”

 

“I’m sorry,” Ami said, leaning against the door to catch her breath.  Her hands fisted over the too-long sleeves of her sweater, dispelling the call for a fight the unexpected lights and presence of her mother had caused.  “I thought you were working tonight, and I was only going down to the store for some milk.”

 

“A coworker asked to switch shifts so she could attend her daughter’s recital on Friday,” Saeko said.  She folded her arms over her chest, lifting an eyebrow at her daughter.  “And where is the milk?”

 

“I ran into Makoto at the store, and I helped her take her bags home,” Ami said.  For a brief moment, she missed the days when she didn’t have to be so good at lying to her mother.  From the still-worried set of her brows, Ami could tell Saeko missed those days, too.  “I accidentally left the milk at her place.”

 

“Sweetheart, you know how glad I am that you’ve made these friends, but this is so unlike you,” Saeko sighed.  “It’s bad enough that you were out so late on a school night, but blowing off appointments like this…”

 

Appointments?

 

“Mom, really.  I went to get some milk and ran into a friend.  I didn’t leave a note because I thought you were working until morning and I knew I’d be home by then.  I was only supposed to be gone a few minutes,” Ami said.  She took a breath and pushed herself off the door, smiling through the pain to convince her there was nothing to worry about.  “Now, can I please –?”

 

She took a step forward and cried out as her ankle gave way, but the cry cut into a startled gasp as a pair of arms wrapped around her.  A shock of warmth where fingers brushed under the hem of her shirt and against the bare skin of her stomach was as surprising as the fall, but her mother’s reaction was more troubling than whoever else was in their home.  Her eyes slammed shut as Saeko hurried over, kneeling down to examine her leg.

 

“The hell did you do, girseach?”

 

It was possibly worse than her mother knowing she was injured.  She could feel his breath tickling her ear, and the queasiness that washed through her had nothing to do with her ankle.  His arms were still firmly locked around her, supporting her, and his fingers were still against her stomach.  What’s worse, he was in her home.  And it’s not that he hadn’t been there before, but that had all been before…

 

She had been avoiding him.  She would say she couldn’t remember the last time she had seen Murphy Zane, but that would be a lie.  It had been after the television auditions, when he had shown up for his latest ‘babysitting’ session.  In the chaos that had been their reawakening and the new enemy, tutoring the Irish international had been the last thing on her mind.  It had taken all she had not to scream when she had opened the door and seen Zoisite standing there in jeans and a tee shirt, bag slung over his shoulder and looking every part the lackadaisical student she’d come to know in the past few weeks.  She knew he was Zane, that he knew nothing of their past and was for all intents and purposes no longer ‘evil’, and that beyond that…but, as always, she was quick to shut down any reminisces from a past life that would only endear him to her in this.  None of it mattered anymore, because he…

 

She had seen him at school, of course.  It was hard not to when he was in her class.  But she had dodged each and every one of his attempts to speak with her, avoiding him easier than she did the sympathetic stares of Usagi and Makoto every time she ran off when he tried to catch her in the halls.  And that he would show up _now_ , of all nights…she mentally groaned at his impeccable timing.

 

“What happened, Ami?” Saeko asked, and Ami had to force the terror Zane’s presence had stirred away to focus on her mother.

 

…terror?  No, that wasn’t right.  She was not terrified of Murphy Zane.  At least…not for why she should think.

 

“I fell,” she said simply.  Saeko gave her that Mom Look that clearly said the excuse wasn’t good enough.  She sighed and shrugged, albeit awkwardly with Zane still supporting her.

 

“Hell of a fall,” he mused, and her face flushed at the look she knew he had to be giving her.  It probably mirrored Saeko’s.

 

“I couldn’t see over the bags, and I fell down some stairs,” she said.  Saeko pursed her lips and nodded.

 

“Murphy-san, please help her into the kitchen.  I’ll be right in with the first aid kit,” she said.  She gave Ami a look that said the conversation was far from over before moving away.  As the doctor went down the hall into the bathroom, Zane hoisted her up bridal-style and started towards the kitchen.

 

“Come on.  Let’s –” he paused at the sudden gasp she gave when his hands pressed into her sides.  His eyes narrowed, and she looked away.  She wished he wouldn’t look at her like that.  “That’s more than a bum leg, girseach.”

 

“I’m fine,” she insisted.  She winced again as he settled her in a chair.  “What are you doing here, anyway?”

 

He whistled low as he knelt before her and took a look at her ankle.  It was swelling and had already turned a lovely shade of splotchy purple-red.  He glanced up at her, and the teasing look in his green eyes made her bristle.

 

“Teacher’s got a backbone,” he grinned at her.  “I like it.  Where’d you find it?”

 

_Months of kicking the ass of every Dark Kingdom creep thrown at us,_ Makoto’s voice sounded off in her head, but she just hardened her expression and looked away.  He sighed and looked back to her ankle.  She hissed as he began to gently probe the discolored area.

 

“Sure it’s not broken?” he asked, and she quickly denied it.  She knew what breaks felt like.

 

“You still haven’t said why you’re here,” she said.  His fingers stopped prodding to rest lightly on her skin.  The touch was alien and familiar all at the same time, and it only served to throw her more out of sorts.  She thought he might be preparing to answer when her mother came back into the room.

 

“Murphy-san, thank you for your assistance, but it’s getting late and you’ve already been here a while.  I’m sorry for my daughter’s inconsiderate behavior, but why don’t you head home?  I’m sure your parents are starting to worry,” she said, and they both knew in the language of parents she was dismissing him so she could further interrogate Ami.  For a brief moment Ami wished he would stay, if only to prolong the inevitable conversation, but when he looked up at her she only looked away.  He sighed and nodded.

 

“Yeah, I suppose so,” he said.  He stood, pausing briefly to kiss her forehead on his way up, before following her mother toward the door.  His unexpected gesture had left her so stunned she completely missed the nod he had given her mother to join him or the brief conversation where he gestured to his abdomen.  She was still sitting there, eyes wide and heart racing, when her mother returned and began to remove her shoe and sock.

 

“He seems like a nice young man,” Saeko said, and Ami’s response was automatic.

 

“He’s not,” she said, and at her mother’s look she had the decency to flush.  She bit her lower lip, wincing as Saeko moved her ankle, and tried to think of how to explain her aversion without sounding crazy.  “I…I used to tutor him, but he has no discipline and wanted to spend all of our time goofing off.  I finally started bringing him here, thinking it would be less distracting than the Crown, but even here all he did was laze about discussing everything except what we were supposed to be studying.  He was impossible to work with.”

 

“It’s called flirting, dear,” Saeko said.  “And used to?  He said that’s what he was here for: your tutoring session.”

 

She pursed her lips, unsure of how to reply.  So she didn’t.

 

“You only sprained it,” Saeko said after an uncomfortable moment had passed.  “Ice and elevate, and you should be fine tomorrow.”

 

“Ok,” Ami said.  She tried to stand, but Saeko put a hand on her knee to stop her.  “I’d like to see your stomach, Ami,” Saeko said.  Ami froze, fear flashing in her eyes before her resolve kicked back in.

 

“Why?  You said yourself: I just sprained my ankle,” she said.  Her mother sighed and reached for her shirt, but Ami caught her hand.  “I’m _fine_ , mother.”

 

“Your breathing has been shallow since you came home, and Murphy-san noticed –”

 

“Murphy!” Ami spat, cutting her off, and Saeko sighed.

 

“Ami,” she chastised.  “Murphy-san told me about how you responded when he touched your side, but I had already noticed the breathing.  Now please.  Shirt.”

 

Ami hesitated, but she knew there was no escaping _Dr. Mizuno._   She closed her eyes, winced when she took a breath, and lifted her shirt.  She watched as her mother’s lips pressed paper-thin, a silent fury entering her eyes as she took in the mottled skin of her abdomen.  Ami closed her eyes, counting the seconds until the explosion.  When it came it was in the cold, quiet rage of the medical professional.

 

“That’s not falling down the steps, Ami,” she said, voice coming out in clipped tones.  “Who did this to you?”

 

“It was –” Ami tried, but Saeko’s eyes snapped up to her and stopped her cold.

 

“Who?!” she demanded.  “Gods above, Ami!  You look like…”

 

“Mom, stop, please,” Ami said, taking a shaky breath and closing her eyes.  When she opened them again, she gave her mother the most convincing smile she could manage when all she wanted to do was shower and sleep.  “It was an accident.  There were a lot of steps.  I wasn’t as careful as I should have been, but I’ll be fine in the morning.  Please don’t make this a bigger deal than it is.”

 

“You’re my daughter and you’re hurt, Ami.  That’s a pretty big deal in my book,” Saeko said, sighing as she placed a hand against her cheek.  She looked back to Ami’s stomach, biting her lip as the words warred in her mind.  “You…I worry.  I know you’re smart and responsible, and I know I can trust you.  I’m so glad you’ve finally started making some real friends, and I’m glad they can be there for you when I can’t.  But…I worry.  Ami, I’m not stupid.  I’ve noticed things.  And this is not just falling down steps.  You look like you were in a fight, Ami.”

 

For a long moment they sat there, locked in a silent battle of wills as Ami silently pleaded with her mother to drop it and Saeko silently begged her daughter to let her in.  In the end, it was a stalemate.  Saeko wasn’t willing to alienate her daughter by pressing, and Ami wasn’t willing to endanger her mother by telling her the truth.  Saeko instructed Ami to keep her shirt lifted, and she began to gently prod the discolored, swelling skin.  Ami hissed as she pressed around her ribs, and Saeko sighed.

 

“It doesn’t look like anything’s broken.  Worst case you fractured something, but most likely you’re just bruised.  Were you planning on going to a hospital to have someone look at these?” Saeko asked, though a part of her already knew the answer.  Ami shook her head, too afraid of what she would say to let herself speak, and Saeko sighed again.  “Go get ready for bed.  I’ll bring you some ice in.  I’ll call your school in the morning to let them know you won’t be in, and I want you to stay home and _rest_.”

 

“But –” Ami tried, but Saeko held up a hand to stop her.

 

“No buts, Ami,” she said.  “I’m beyond furious, and we will discuss this later.  For now, I’m just glad you’re home and safe.  Now please.  Don’t fight me on this and do as I say.”

 

A short while later, after a quick shower that she couldn’t choose between calling agonizing or relieving, Ami wasn’t nearly as glad as she’d expected to be holed away in her room.  Her foot was lying on three pillows with a cocoon of ice wrapped around it, and she was shivering under the towel-wrapped ice resting on her stomach.  Now that she was safely home and in bed, the exhaustion was catching up with her – though it could just be the fight with her mother further taxing her depleted reserves.

 

A chirping on her windowsill caught her attention, and she reached over to pick up her mobile.  There was a message from Makoto, inquiring after her well-being and whether or not she made it home.

 

_Mom surprised me at home.  She’s scared.  Zoisite was here, too._

 

The response was immediate.

 

_Shit!  How’d that go?  km_

 

The response was brief and quickly typed.  _I’ll be fine tomorrow, but she’s making me stay home.  Bruised ribs.  He wasn’t here long.  Fill you in tomorrow – need rest, & so do you._  The replying good night was grudging, and she could practically hear Makoto grumbling in her head.  She smiled slightly and turned her head to stare out the window at the moonlight.  She missed before, when it was easy.  See the bad guy, fight the bad guy, kill the bad guy.  Save the day.  None of this confusing, _‘is he even a bad guy?’_ mess.  Her eyes slipped closed even as her phone dropped from her hand, and it wasn’t long before she was asleep.

 

– V –

 

Ami only briefly entertained the idea of sneaking out to school the next morning.  She woke up when her mother crept into her room to change the ice, but she pretended to sleep in hopes of avoiding another argument.  She was double-checking her alarm when she heard her mother in the hall on the phone with her school, informing them that Ami had had a minor accident the night before and would be missing school for at least the day.  She sighed as the call wrapped up, and moments later she heard the door to the condo shut.  Before going back to sleep, she grabbed her phone and sent a quick message to Usagi, letting her know that neither Makoto nor she would be in class that day and not to worry.

 

A few hours later, she decided she was tired of lying in bed and made her way out to the kitchen.  Despite her mother’s concern, her ankle – and ribs – were fine, as she had known they would be.  Her ankle only twinged a little when she stepped on it wrong, and she knew in another few hours the sprain would be nothing but a distant memory.  Her ribs weren’t bothering her at all, and her skin had returned to its normal color.  She poured herself a cup of coffee and sighed, leaning against the counter as she took a sip.  If only Zane hadn’t stuck his nose where it didn’t belong, then her mother never would have caught her.  She wouldn’t have freaked out, and Ami would be on her way to school right now.

 

She sighed again as she put the mug down.  That wasn’t true.  She would have been caught either way, she knew.  It was inevitable – a miracle none of them had been caught before, honestly.  Blaming Zane just made her feel better about it all, petty as it was.

 

A knock at the door caught her attention, and she frowned as she abandoned her coffee and went to answer it.  Who in the world would be visiting this early on a school day…?

 

“Yes, I’m coming.  How can I help…” she called as the visitor knocked again, but when she opened the door to find Zane standing on the other side in the blue Juuban uniform any pretense of politeness vanished.  Her gaze settled into an icy stare as her hand tightened on the handle.  The end of her question came out hostile and steely, an accusation more than an inquiry.  “You.”

 

“You’re looking better,” he said, green eyes twinkling as he set his bag down by the door.  Her eyes darted to it before landing back on him.

 

“What are you doing here?” she asked, and he frowned.  “Mother said you were here for tutoring last night.  We both know I haven’t tutored you in weeks, so why were you really here?  And why are you here now?”

 

“Well, good morning to you, too, then,” he grumbled, reaching up to rub the back of his neck.  He peeked out from under his lashes, but she remained unmoved by his charming schoolboy act.  He sighed and crossed his arms over his chest.  “I was worried.  Not last night.  Well, a bit last night.  More so this morning after seeing you last night.”

 

She wanted to tell him to stop babbling and get on with it, but for whatever reason she could tell he was nervous.  She knew she tended to babble when she was nervous, too, but…wait.  Worried?

 

“Why were you worried?” she asked, startled by the admission.  He sighed and stepped closer, reaching out to link his hand with her own.  She hesitated just a moment too long, and she found herself watching with a strange sense of detachment as she stood in the hallway, holding hands with…Zoisite.

 

“Do you really need to ask that, Ami?  C’mon, I know you’re not stupid,” he said.  “And yeah, it has been a few weeks since you’ve ‘tutored’ me, though my parents don’t actually know that yet.  But…I don’t get it.  We were getting on fine, and I was even thinking you might agree to go out with me, and then all of a sudden you start hanging out with Tsukino and Kino and…you look at me like…Ami, what the hell did I do?  I know I piss you off sometimes, but I thought you chocked it up to my endearing charm.”

 

“I can’t…Zoi…Zane, why are you here?” she asked, and he huffed in frustration as he jerked his shoulders in an aggravated shrug.

 

“Well, that’s what I was just saying, wasn’t it?  And why do you keep doing that with my name?” he asked, annoyed.  “I’m trying to tell you that I like you and want you to stop putting this stupid distance between us, and all you can do is play dumb.  What, is this ‘cause of Germany?  No attachments make it easier to leave the country?”

 

“What?” she asked, her eyes wide as she looked up at him.  How did he know about…?

 

“Your ma was telling me about it.  She’s really proud.  Ami, I…” he paused, unsure how to  continue when everything she did – had been doing for the past few weeks – put up another wall between them.  “I suppose it was a last-ditch effort at saving…whatever it was we had been building, before you made your new friends.  And after you came home hurt, I figured you’d need help getting to school.  And I wanted to make sure you were ok.”

 

“Mom’s not letting me go to school today,” she said, the reply automatic and almost robotic.  He was making this too hard.  She didn’t want to trust him, give him a chance to revive those memories that would turn him against her again.  She didn’t want him around her.  “I…feel much better, but she wants me to take a day to rest.  I’m sorry you wasted your time.”

 

“Damn it, Ami!” he snapped, releasing her hand to stalk a few aggravated paces.  He stopped a few steps away from her, his shoulders drooping in defeat.  “Right.  I’m sorry.  I’ll stop…I can take a hint.  Glad you’re all right.  See you around, A…Mizuno-san.”

 

She knew, as she watched him go, that she should be glad for the concession.  They had all agreed, back when they had first been revived and realized Beryl’s old generals were also alive and kicking and apparently part of their civilian lives, that avoiding them was for the best.  Later, when Mamoru had been revived and the memories had started returning, they had agreed more than ever that it was best to let sleeping dogs lie.  She should be glad for this.  She should be happy Zane was giving up.  She watched him disappear onto the elevator, eyes downcast and not once looking back to her, and knew that this was a victory and she should celebrate the win.

 

So why wasn’t she?

 

– V –

 

Ami wasn’t angry.

 

_It was late enough that the street lights were on, but Ami couldn’t really say that she cared.  She was a Sailor Senshi, and even with a new enemy afoot she wasn’t really concerned about walking home alone.  She could take care of herself.  And presently…well, it was the best she had felt in a long while, so she could safely – possibly a bit foolishly – say she could definitely take care of herself._

_From the television station, the newly (re-)awakened team of Senshi had gone back to Rei’s temple for some much-needed bonding time.  Of course, part of the evening had been spent with Luna, Artemis, and Usagi catching the rest of them up on the new enemy, but for the most part the girls had hung out like…well, not entirely like old times, if she was honest.  They had never really had the chance to just hang out and be friends before, with the constant threat of the Dark Kingdom looming over their heads.  Regardless, the night had been a blessing, and it wasn’t until Grandpa Hino had come into the room asking if they were all staying for dinner that any of them had realized how late it was.  Usagi and Minako had excused themselves to place some hurried calls, and after many apologies to irate mothers they had both received permission to stay a bit longer for supper.  Ami had sent a quick text to her mother, just in case she had gotten off early (unlikely) and was concerned by her daughter’s absence at home.  They had then joined Grandpa Hino, Yuuichirou, and Rei for a dinner full of laughter, made only slightly awkward by the occasional comment from Grandpa Hino on how Rei needed to invite her attractive new friends over more often._

_They had gone their separate ways shortly after, planning a more serious Senshi meeting for the next day after classes.  Makoto had joined her for part of the walk home, until she had to turn down a separate road with a promise to see her in the morning.  As she continued home, Ami couldn’t help but reflect on how she felt…happy.  Relieved.  Peaceful, even.  Yes, there was a new enemy, but part of her thought there would always be a new enemy.  What mattered was that the Senshi – all of them – were back together, and they would be able to handle whatever came their way.  She had her sisters back, and nothing could dampen the elation she felt at the thought._

_That is…until she left the elevator for her floor and found Zoisite standing outside the door to her condo.  In her post-awakening glow, the rush of memories she experienced were entirely negative: months of fighting this creep and his allies in numerous life-or-death situations.  He was the enemy.  And he was outside her condo._

_“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice biting, and she was almost surprised the question didn’t come out as ‘what are you doing alive?’.  He jumped up from where he had been leaning on the door and turned to look at her, the easy-going smile fading in the confusion at seeing her defensive pose.  One arm was raised protectively in front of her, and the other hovered by her pocket, ready to grab her henshin wand at the slightest provocation.  Her eyes were hardened into a cool, calculating stare._

_“Ami?  What’s up?” he asked.  He glanced at his watch, his frown deepening.  “Thought we had tutoring today?  You’re late.  Which is fine, really, just…odd.  And now you kinda look like you want to deck me.  Everything ok?”_

_He was babbling.  She didn’t remember Zoisite ever…_

_She almost gasped as a memory wiggled its way to the forefront of her mind, one where she_ did _remember Zoisite babbling, but it wasn’t the battle-hardened Zoisite of the Dark Kingdom.  She wasn’t even entirely sure it was the lazy, dorky Murphy Zane of Juuban Middle._

_“What are you doing here?” she asked again, her voice harsher than she intended at the sudden fear of the (unwanted) memory._

_“Tutoring?  Thought I said that,” he said.  He took a step closer, and she took a step back.  Before he could question her, she panicked and rushed ahead, pushing her way past him to reach the condo._

_“Sorry.  Busy tonight,” she said quickly before slamming the door in his face.  On the other side, she released a confused, somewhat terrified breath as she leaned against the door.  She barely heard his mumbled acceptance or farewell from the hall as he left.  She was Mizuno Ami, reborn princess and soldier of an age long past, the Senshi of wisdom and ice, and he was…_

_….who the hell was he?_

The cool, stoic Senshi of Ice didn’t get angry.

 

_She had never seen anything like it.  On the Moon, everything was supported by the stasis field.  Yes, the palace held beautiful gardens of a multitude of colors and blooms, but it was all underlaid by a backwash of pristine white.  There was something almost clinical about the Moon’s beauty, and it was something mirrored by her home world.  Though closest to the Sun, her beloved Mercury burned cold.  Snow and ice, frozen gray mornings, and gleaming skies were her norm.  This…this was different.  Magic._

_As she stared up at the golden-red leaves covering the branches of the trees, watching the sinking sun through their boughs, she couldn’t help but think that the sky was on fire._

_This planet was so strange, so different, so…beautiful.  It was all so new, and suddenly – standing there, her feet firmly planted amidst the dried leaves and crackling branches of the Terran forest – she could see what had so captivated her princess.  A snapping twig and a glint of something coppery in the corner of her eye caused her to twirl around, and she gasped at the sight before her._

_Yes, she could definitely see what had so captivated Princess Serenity about this strange, wondrous place._

_“You are here with the Moon Princess,” the man said, green eyes sparkling with mirth.  He strode forward with grace and confidence, a hand resting easily on the hilt of the sword by his side.  Her cheeks burned, embarrassed and ashamed at being caught so unawares.  She was a Senshi, personal guard of the Moon Princess, and she’d been caught gawking about like…  “Shouldn’t you be watching her?”_

_“I was,” she said, her voice quiet but defiant.  He grinned and walked closer, and she was uncomfortable with the way he leaned into her personal space to whisper conspiratorially to her._

_“Then where is she?”_

_She gasped again, jerking her head up and slamming her forehead into his nose in the process.  He yelped and winced, clapping a hand over the offended appendage, but she was too busy scanning the clearing for Princess Serenity and her suitor to be concerned by minor injuries.  They were there, under the tree by the lake and only a short distance from where she had left them, and she breathed a sigh of relief before turning back to the man._

_“You, sir, are…” but he cut her off, holding up a hand and chuckling lightly._

_“Peace,” he said.  “I am Zoisite, High King of the North and personal guard of the Crown Prince Endymion.  I am meant to be here, just as I’m guessing you are, going from your lovely uniform.”_

_She had never been as uncomfortable with the revealing skirt as she was in that moment, and she tried in vain to tug it down lower.  He chuckled again and snatched her hand from her skirt, bringing it up to his lips to place a kiss upon her gloved knuckles._

_“And you are, most vexing creature?” he inquired, and her face burned again._

_“Sailor Mercury,” she said, snatching her hand back and standing taller.  For her, it wasn’t much.  Five feet and two inches didn’t entirely give you a whole lot to work with in the art of intimidation.  “Crown Princess of the planet Mercury and guardian Senshi of the Moon Princess Serenity.”_

_“Sailor Mercury…” he hummed, his eyes still glittering.  “Somehow I don’t believe that is your given name, but if you insist.”_

_“I do,” she said.  “A princess’s – a soldier’s – given name is a gift, one that must be earned.  You have not yet earned that gift, King Zoisite.”_

_“Zoisite, please,” he said, again holding up a hand.  “Then I aspire to do so.  I would love to know the name of so lovely a creature, for surely it must be as lovely as its bearer.”_

_She did not respond, her face burning as brightly as the sky, and he pressed on unabashed._

_“Tell me, what had you so preoccupied?” he asked.  “You did not even appear to sense my approach, and shouldn’t a personal guard be more vigilant?”_

_“I was…distracted,” she admitted.  She looked back to the trees, to the display of autumnal fire, and sighed.  “The trees here…are they always like this?  This golden color?”_

_“The leaves?  Oh, no,” Zoisite said, smiling as he reached up and plucked a garnet leaf from a branch.  “It is the harvest season.  The leaves always change this time of year, in preparation for the winter when they will fall off and the trees will sleep.”_

_“They…change?” she asked, her eyes wide with wonder._

_“Yes.  In the summer, they are green,” he explained.  Her childlike reactions amazed and dazzled him, reminding him that this was her first time on his planet.  But…didn’t they have seasons on her own?  “You…have never seen this before, have you?”_

_“No,” she confessed.  She took the leaf from him, holding it close to observe.  “Our trees do not change.  How fascinating…and they do this every year?”  She looked back at him to find him chuckling, and her face warmed again.  “What?”_

_“Nothing,” he said, hiding his laughs behind a hand.  “Yes, they do this every year.”_

_And she continued to drill him, about the seasons and the trees and life on Terra and any and everything that popped into her mind.  She had an insatiable curiosity, and he found it…refreshing.  Exhilarating.  He found her intelligent, humorous, witty, beautiful…and she found him insightful, challenging, and…off-setting, in a good way.  She was captivated by his views and opinions, the ways he spun stories of his home, the anecdotes of the prince and his brothers in arms.  The otherness of him was exhilarating, yet in that difference she found a kindred spirit.  Over the course of the next year, she found herself accompanying her princess to the strange planet more and more.  Each time she would encounter this strange king, and each time she would spend more time getting to know him than she would watching her princess.  Serenity was glad for the privacy, yet she always felt lax in her duties when she realized just how much time had gotten away from her in Zoisite’s company._

_Over a year later, Endymion and his guard made their first official trip to the Moon to begin the peace talks that would usher Terra into the Silver Alliance and allow the Terran prince to openly court the Moon princess.  She was there with the rest of the Senshi, standing a silent vigil as they greeted the Terran convoy with the queen and princess.  He was the last to leave the transport, and her eyes widened with barely-hidden delight as he stumbled over the lip of the door and onto the platform.  He recovered smoothly, a debonair smile gracing his face as he looked up and attempted to laugh off his slip – until his eyes locked on hers, and suddenly he was blushing as easily as she did herself.  He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck as he mumbled his introduction, and the other girls snickered at his obvious unease.  Serenity gave her a private smile, and at her Princess’s urging she stepped forward to extend her gloved hand to the king.  He looked up, eyes startled, and she smiled warmly at him._

_“Welcome to the Moon, Lord Zoisite,” she said, her voice clear with authority and grace.  It was her official voice, her regal voice, belaying her status as Senshi and princess in her own right.  “I am Brigid, Crown Princess of Mercury and guardian Senshi of the Crown Princess Serenity.  May I say on behalf of all of us that we are quite pleased to have you.”_

_His expression softened as he clasped her hand, and an unreadable look crossed his eyes.  His lips quirked in a smile, and he bent over her hand to kiss the back.  Whispering low enough that only she could hear, he breathed, “…thank you, Brigid.  I shall cherish it always.”_

 

She was methodical, calculating.  The supposed ‘weak link’, but battle hardened and as capable as any of her sisters in arms.  She was focused.  She didn’t let herself get bogged down by irrational emotions that could compromise a fight, leading to the serious harm of herself or any of her comrades.

 

_She let out a surprised squeak as she was suddenly jerked to the side and down, where she found herself hiding with Makoto behind a bush.  The taller girl was glaring at something – someone – in the school yard, and Ami had to give herself a moment to regain her bearings before her eyes landed on what had Makoto so transfixed.  Her book snapped shut, and her lips pressed paper-thin in frustration.  In the hazy afterglow of remembering her friends and losing herself in homework, she had almost forgotten her surprise visitor of the night before._

_“The hell is he doing here?” Makoto hissed, and Ami glanced over at her and bit her lip.  “Why isn’t he dead?”_

_“He’s…he’s in my class,” she said, quietly._

_“She’s been tutoring him for the past few weeks,” a voice to their side said, and Makoto’s strangled “WHAT?!” was more in response to that bit of news than to Usagi’s uncharacteristically early arrival at the school.  When Ami, purposefully ignoring Makoto, questioned her on it, Usagi grinned.  “I was so happy to have you guys back I couldn’t really sleep.  Got up crazy early and decided to meet you here.”_

_“Never mind that!  Ami, what the hell do you think you’re doing, tutoring him?  He’s the – !” Makoto started to demand, but a coppery head popping around their hiding spot caused her to shriek instead._

_“What are you guys doing behind the bushes?” Zane asked, and Makoto glared fiercely at him as she quickly stood to her full height and folded her arms across her chest.  Zane stumbled back a few steps, raising his hands to show he meant no harm._

_“That’s none of your damn business, is it?!” she snapped, and Zane whistled as he shrugged._

_“Geeze, ok.  Sorry,” he said.  He glanced at Ami.  “Hey, about last night…”_

_“Sorry.  I forgot…something came up,” she mumbled, and she was thrown off guard by the easy-going smile he gave her._

_“S’all right.  We can just reschedule for today,” he said.  “Hey, we can go back to the Crown.  Buy you a milkshake.”_

_“I don’t think tonight will work, either,” she said.  “Cram school, remember?”_

_“Shoot,” he muttered.  He stuffed his hands in his pockets and frowned.  “Tomorrow?”_

_“She’s got plans with us,” Makoto said defensively, and Zane frowned as he looked from the brunette to the blonde standing on either side of her like bodyguards.  “She’s got plans with us for the foreseeable future.”_

_“O…k…” he said.  He looked back at Ami, still frowning, and sighed when a classmate called for him.  “I guess we’ll hash it out later.  See you in class, Ami.”_

_The next few days were all the same: avoiding Zane in the morning, ignoring the notes he furtively shot her way during class, dashing away from school in the afternoon before he could catch her, and blatantly ignoring the front door when he arrived at her home shortly after.  He was worse than a stray cat, tailing her constantly and popping up in the most inopportune places.  A stray cat or a puppy, what with how he always seemed to be vying for her attention.  She just wanted to stay as far away from him as possible, but he seemed determined to keep her close.  As if he was…and she was…but she pushed those thoughts and any memories associated to them far away, reminding herself that he was the enemy – and that was all he ever could be._

She heard the slow, drawling laugh of the plant-like droid she had stumbled upon in the park.  The feminine droid hovered just out of the way, above the battle with vines snaking from beneath her dress.  The vines formed humanoid extensions of the main droid, a small army all ready to take the life of the lone Senshi.  She had no idea if help was on its way: a well-placed, whip-like vine had smashed her communicator before she could be certain the SOS got out.

 

_“How do you do it?”_

_“Hmm?” came the distracted reply.  The priestess didn’t even look up from her birds as she answered.  Phoebos and Deimos continued to peck at the seed in her outstretched palm, and she smiled calmly at the crows.  For her part, Ami couldn’t tear her eyes off the blonde-haired man sweeping the top of the temple steps._

_“He’s here almost every day, a constant presence that’s involved in your life,” Ami said.  “How are you not going crazy?”_

_“Who says I’m not?” Rei finally asked, and Ami turned surprised eyes on her.  “You’re asking because of your troubles with Zoisite, right?”_

_“How did you…?” Ami started, but Rei smiled softly at her._

_“Usagi told me,” she said.  “Plus, I’ve been there when he’s interrupted our meetings at the Crown, remember?  He’s certainly persistent.  I’ll give him that much.”_

_Ami hummed and looked back to Jadeite – no, Joji.  His name was Joji.  She supposed it was possible that the four generals had had lives and families before Beryl had sunk her claws in them, but it was a thought that had never occurred to her (any of them, really) when they were fighting for their lives against them.  It was hard to picture the men as ‘normal’ now, though she supposed in a way they were only as normal as the Senshi had been before Luna and Artemis had reawakened them.  She wondered how long it would be before something awoke the evil lurking in the former generals, and the more traitorous side of her wondered if – with Metalia gone – there was any remaining evil to return._

_“It’s so…confusing,” she finally said, uncertain if ‘confusing’ was the word she was really looking for.  Frustrating, infuriating…either would work just as well.  “There are so many memories clamoring for precedence.  I remember him most clearly as our enemy, the man who constantly tried to kill us.  I remember him as my classmate, the poor boy who had a terrible accident and needed tutoring to catch up in school.  He was…not a friend, exactly, but certainly tolerable.  But I also remember him from before, I think, and I don’t know what to do with those memories.”_

_“And when you’re around him?” Rei asked, still looking to her birds.  Ami sighed, looking at her feet._

_“I remember him as everything, the enemy and the f…friend.  I feel like I can’t trust him, but a part of me wants to.  I’ve almost taken him up on that milkshake a few times now, but every time before I can agree I remember…” her voice trailed off.  She didn’t have to say what she remembered.  Rei remembered it, too, albeit differently.  There were betrayals on all sides in those days._

_For a while, Ami didn’t think Rei would answer her.  She continued to tend to her birds, and Ami continued to watch Joji sweep.  She didn’t miss the way he would send the occasional glance towards Rei or the way Rei would steadfastly ignore him.  Finally, the priestess spoke._

_“I don’t interact with him beyond what is necessary,” she finally said.  “I don’t trust him, but I understand that with Beryl and Metalia dead he most likely won’t wake up.  If he does, I’ll cross that bridge when it gets here.  For now, I try not to hold past sins against him.  Joji is no more accountable for the actions of Jadeite than Mamoru was for his actions under Beryl’s control.  Jadeite…Jadeite is a different matter entirely, and he will be dealt with accordingly when –_ if _– the time comes.”_

 

She was preoccupied with one opponent, reduced to hand-to-vine combat as her attacks were doing next to nothing to the plants.  In her concentration, she lost track of the others – more specifically, of the one creeping up on her side, of the deadly vine it was preparing to send her way.

 

_The first time she saw him after her injury was…awkward.  More so than their previous encounters, at least on her part.  He was standing by his locker with some friends, laughing and chatting easily.  She was frozen by her own, watching him with a torn expression as she hesitated in changing her shoes.  She knew he saw her – had to have seen her – but he didn’t react at all, and while a part of her was relieved the larger whole had no idea how to react to this cool indifference after so many weeks of persistence.  He was gone moments later, walking with the group to their classroom, and she hurriedly grabbed her things to avoid being late.  Yet the class was the same: no furtive glances, no notes, no hissed whispers…nothing.  She hadn’t realized how much she had come to enjoy his antics until they were suddenly gone._

_But wasn’t that exactly what she had wanted?_

_The next day was much the same, and the next, and the next.  She didn’t understand why it bothered her so much – it shouldn’t.  Zane was finally leaving her alone, and she…_

_“What happened?” she jumped at Usagi’s question, and she looked back to her friend to find the blonde was looking in the same direction she had just been: to Zane, who was hanging upside-down from a tree branch and acting something out for a group of boys laughing beneath him._

_“Pardon?” she asked, and Makoto frowned as she turned to watch the former general as well._

_“He hasn’t been bugging you lately,” she said.  “Did something happen when he popped up at your place the other day?”_

_“…no, not really,” Ami said.  She stared at her lunch, absently pushing some of her carrots around.  At their unconvinced looks, she looked back over to Zane.  “I just asked him to leave me alone.”_

_He flipped over off the branch, landing with a grace that belied his usual awkward charm.  He gave a mocking bow to the cheers and claps his friends offered, but he looked up at just the right – wrong – time in her direction, and for a moment their eyes locked.  The look on his face was guarded, unreadable, and she didn’t understand why she hated it being directed at her so much.  Her lips turned down.  She didn’t understand why she suddenly felt like she could cry._

_“…and he did.”_

 

No, Sailor Mercury wasn’t angry, she thought as the enemy she had been fighting was quickly slashed in half.  A startled cry left her throat as an arm roughly shoved her behind a body, and with horror she took in the brown cloak and copper-colored hair of the man who quickly sent a blast at the creature that had been readying its death blow, slicing it in half.  Sailor Mercury – Ami – wasn’t angry.

 

She was _furious_.

 

_“And stay down!” he grunted as he pushed his leg against the chest of the youma currently impaled on his sword, kicking it off the long blade and onto the bloodied grass where it belonged.  He turned, but the mirth in his eyes vanished as quickly as his grin when he saw Sailor Mercury on her back, struggling with a youma whose gaping, fang-ringed maw was snapping ravenously for her face.  He was halfway across the clearing Beryl’s hoards had surprised them in when Mercury gave a screech of raw power and a blast of ice shot from her.  He came to a stop by her side, whistling low as the icicle-spiked youma gave its final death twitches._

_“Nice,” he said, offering a hand to help her up.  When she was back on her feet, he crushed her against him in an only slightly terrified hug.  “That was too close.”_

_“I didn’t think she had grown this strong already,” Mercury said, her voice quiet as she surveyed the carnage.  “Something’s changed.  Zoisite, we have to warn the others.”_

_“Aye, mo chroí, we will,” he said.  She looked up at him when he refused to release her, confused at his hesitance.  He placed a bruising kiss on her lips, one that only turned more possessive when she gasped his name.  “Too close, Brigid.  I thought…you scared me.”_

_“I’m a Senshi.  A soldier, just like you,” she said, her voice terse, and he chuckled weakly._

_“Aye, and a damned good one at that,” he conceded.  “I’ve just never had the opportunity to see you engaged in combat.  I know you’re capable, but that doesn’t keep my poor heart from stopping when I see one of the witch’s demons about to devour you.  I can’t lose you, mo chroí.”_

_His voice had grown quiet, and she sensed the fear in his words.  Fear that she felt in equal measures, even if years of discipline and a stoic nature refused to let her show.  Instead, she pulled him close and pressed her lips against the shell of his ear before whispering, “You won’t.”_

_There was enough conviction in her words that he almost – almost – believed her._

 

“Normally I’d come swooping in with a flowery speech about justice and the greater good and all that sod,” Zane – no, _Zoisite_ – said in an eerily calm voice.  His grip on his sword tightened, his hands flexing slightly with pent-up energy.  Though she could only see his face in profile at best, Mercury could still identify the steely glint in his eyes.  “But you’ve caught me in a particularly foul mood, so let’s skip the pleasantries and get to the part where I run you through, yeah?”

 

“Zoi…” she started, but he shot a quick glance over his shoulder, and with that one look she knew that he was furious, too.  Fine.

 

“Later,” he snapped.  “And damn it, Mercury, this time you’re actually gonna give me one.”

 

The rest of the battle was a bit of a blur.  She had forgotten, in all the years and alliances that separated their last combined effort and this, how easy it was to fight _with_ him.  How well they complimented each other, how easily their fighting styles flowed – like twin rivers, easily sliding in and out of the other while remaining independent.  It scared and exhilarated her, and it was over all too soon: her ice holding the main droid in place while Zoisite quickly tore her in half with his claymore.  What was left of her shoots withered and died with their main host vanquished, and suddenly the park was too quiet.  Zoisite stood there, steadily cleaning the green goo off his sword with his cloak.  A wind blew through the night, and her arms instinctively rose to hug herself at the chill.  She was still, frozen by uncertainty and anger and the debilitating fact that – for once in her life – she was at a complete loss at what to do.  In the light of that weight, she did the only thing she could.

 

“Thank you,” she whispered, the words barely audible, yet in that infuriating way he had he heard them clear as day.  His hands stilled over his blade, and after a moment his shoulders sagged in defeat.  The claymore was quickly sheathed, but he didn’t turn to face her.  As if he was as uncertain as she was.  Finally he turned, his head still down, and crossed the small clearing with calm, steady steps.  Her body tensed as he drew nearer, a fear she couldn’t quite identify the origin of creeping over her as he looked up and opened his mouth –

 

– and grabbed her hand at the sound of approaching voices, quickly tugging her away from the scene of the fight.  She knew they hadn’t run far, but it felt like ages before he stopped and leaned against a tree, knocking his head against the bark as he panted for breath.

 

“Jesus, that was close,” he said.  “I am severely out of shape.  Kas would have my ass over this if he was here.”

 

She didn’t really need to ask about ‘Kas’.  Zane had mentioned him before, and she knew it was the nickname of his adopted older brother who was currently studying at Oxford.  Still, the name niggled at her, and she wondered…it was just too coincidental, and part of her knew without asking that Kas had to be Kunzite.  Just like Zane was really Zoisite, and Joji was Jadeite, and even though Zoisite had just saved her life…

 

Her eyes narrowed, studying him.  His head was turned slightly, looking around the trees to make sure the patch of foliage he had chosen as a hiding spot was sufficient enough.  Even though it was the same hair, the same face, the same eyes…something about him seemed older, harder.  More calculating.  The look of a warrior – of a _king_.  There was a sense of regality about him, shining through his features and stance.  Nothing about him seemed overtly evil, though.  Even his clothes were the gold-trimmed white and brown of the Terran kingdom instead of the sooty gray of Beryl’s generals.  She knew, deep inside her, that this was Zoisite, the King of the North, and not Zoisite, General of the European Division.  And yet, despite knowing that, she was still wary.

 

“You,” he said, and barely a breath had transpired between his last statement and this, even with the marathon her mind was running, “are an eejit.  I know you can manage, but saints above, mo chara.  That was entirely too close.”

 

“Don’t call me that,” she said, the response automatic.  Hearing the old endearment was grating, when she knew…  “Please.  Don’t…what are you doing here?”

 

“Seems to be all you can ask me lately, aye?” he asked, glancing back over his shoulder.  “Thought it was obvious this time, too.  Saving your arse.”

 

“But you’re…” she floundered, at a loss for words, and instead gestured vaguely to his getup.  His expression took on a sympathetic lilt, and he sighed as he took a step towards her.  She automatically fell into a defensive pose, raising her arms and readying herself for an attack.  His face fell.

 

“Ami…” he said.  “I’m not going to hurt you.”

 

“It’s what you’re best at,” she bit out, and he had the decency to flinch at the words.

 

“I just saved your life,” he said, gesturing back the way they had come.  “Doesn’t that count for anything?”

 

“One good deed doesn’t make up for a lifetime of wrong,” she said.  Her eyes narrowed.  “Last I saw you…”

 

“Was at school, earlier today, when you kept staring at me and pretending you weren’t,” he said, and her eyes hardened.

 

“Was months back, when your uniform was gray and you were trying to destroy the planet,” she said.  The accusation was enough to knock the wind out of his sails.  His jaw dropped slightly, eyes widening as he processed her words.  She watched him mouth her statement before looking down at his uniform, and after a moment his fists tightened and he closed his eyes as a warm glow engulfed him.  When it faded, Zane was looking at her with pleading eyes.

 

“There.  This better?” he asked, and when she remained a few steps away from him, body still tense, he held out his hands and took a step closer.  “Ami, please.  It’s just me.  You know me.”

 

“No, I don’t!” she snapped, retreating as he drew closer.  He paused, lowering his hands, as she shook her head.  “I can’t!  I…damn it, Zane, I have three versions of you running around my head, and I can’t make heads or tails of any of them!”

 

It was enough to make him hesitate.  She turned her back on him.

 

“How long have you…when did you wake up?” she asked.  She refused to release her transformation.  It was an extra layer of armor between them, protecting her from whatever this mess was.

 

“Not as long as you, clearly,” he said, his voice bitter.  She closed her eyes and took a steadying breath.

 

“We were needed,” she said harshly.  “And once Mamoru woke up, we all decided it was too risky to attempt to wake you.  It was better if you just forgot.”

 

“Mamoru…?  Christ, you mean the Prince?  He didn’t want us back, either?” he asked, losing a bit of his bluster.  When she refused to look at him, he groaned.  “Didn’t you think…I suppose none of us got a say in the matter, then.”

 

“You were Mamoru’s guard, so it was ultimately his decision,” she bit, her voice still cold.  “Now.  How long?”

 

He sighed and shoved a hand through his hair.  “A week, maybe?  It…it was an accident.”

 

“What do you mean?  How do you accidentally wake up?” she asked, turning to glare at him.  He shrugged helplessly.

 

“Well, clearly you lot weren’t going to do anything about it,” he said, eyes narrowed.  She had the decency to wince.  “I got tangled up in that attack last week.  The one with the lion thing.  I was with Joji, and –”

 

“Jadeite’s awake, too?!” she shrieked, and he rolled his eyes.

 

“Yeah, though I don’t think he’s said anything to Princess Pyro yet, either,” he said.  She went to say something, but he held up a hand.  “Please.  We were in the attack, and the next thing we knew we had these…”

 

He held up his wrist, drawing her attention to the leather thong tied about it.  A blue gem was attached to it, lying against his skin.  Her fingers twitched, itching to reach for her supercomputer and analyze the stone, but she already knew exactly what it was.  After a moment, he continued, “It all kind of came in flashes.  Like…a scab that just keeps itching and you _have_ to pick it.  As soon as I saw the stone…I knew what to do.  I knew those people needed help, and the Senshi weren’t showing up, and…I had to do something.  The memories didn’t really start coming back until after.”

 

“After?” she asked, glancing up at him.  He shrugged.

 

“That night,” he elaborated.  “It was like a dam broke.  I remembered everything – well, a good bit of everything.  The past year’s a bit fuzzy.  Coma and all.”

 

She snorted, and his eyes hardened.

 

“Coma, Ami,” he repeated, his voice firmer.  When she looked back to him, he looked furious.  “Coma.  I remember bits of the Silver Millennium.  I remember swearing fealty to my Prince, I remember my brothers, and I remember falling for a goddess.  But after that?  This life?  I remember getting attacked by the Witch, and then I remember waking up in a hospital bed being told Kas and I had been in a car accident and had been in comas for most of the previous year.  So yeah, mo chara.  Coma.”

 

“Just because you don’t remember what you did for her doesn’t mean it wasn’t you who did it,” she bit, willfully ignoring the bit where he had called the past her a goddess.  (Just because she shared the name with a deity his people worshipped didn’t make it true – though he hadn’t been willing to believe that back then, either.)  He snarled as he shoved his hands through his hair.

 

“Christ above, Ami!  It really, really does!” he cried, clearly exasperated.  “I told you: I was in a coma!  If you want me to get more technical than that and ignore whatever spell your princess’s crystal wove, I was dead!”

 

She froze at that.  He turned from her, glaring at some point in the distance.  Anything so he wouldn’t have to look at her.

 

“Do you…do you really think we would have betrayed our Prince so easily?  That I would have betrayed you?” he asked.  His voice was so much quieter, almost broken.  “Mo chroí…did you always have so little faith in me?”

 

When she didn’t – couldn’t – answer, he walked towards her.  She didn’t back away, but she also didn’t release the grip she had on her sides.  He hesitated just shy of reaching out to her, his hand twitching by his side.

 

“I don’t remember much of that time,” he said, “especially the last days, but I remember you.  I remember thinking how upset you were going to be when I failed to return.  When we woke up the first time, right before the Witch found us here…I didn’t remember you then.  Well.”

 

She glanced up at him to find he was smiling at her, a hopeful look in his eyes.

 

“I kind of remembered?  I remembered the Prince, and I knew I had to find him, but I also dreamed about you.  Your back was always to me, though, and I couldn’t remember your face…but I remember, right before she killed us, thinking I was letting you down again.  I hated myself for that,” he sighed.  She bit her lip, and he shrugged helplessly.  “Things were clearer when Joji and I woke up this time.  I don’t remember what I did for Beryl because it wasn’t me doing it, mo chara.  She was…I guess it was easier to kill us and use our bodies to attack you.  More poetic, I guess.  But after the Crystal brought us all back…I woke up in a hospital room, and a few weeks later my parents were telling me this blue-eyed beauty was going to be helping me catch up in school.”

 

She bristled and tried to protest, but he reached up and placed a finger on her lips.  She stiffened at the contact, her eyes growing wide, and he winked at her.

 

“Don’t even try and tell me you’re not a beauty, mo chara, ‘cause you’re gorgeous,” he said.  And just like that, the fury was back.  She shoved him away with a frustrated cry, and he yelped as he stumbled back a few steps.

 

“Stop it – just stop it!” she snapped, whirling way from him.  “This…this is the problem!”

 

He waited, although impatiently, a desperate look in his eyes as he tried to understand what he was doing wrong.

 

“You can’t…you can’t just _say_ things like that!  Because I don’t remember everything, but I’m starting to – and what I remember most clearly is you – ok, fine, _Not You_ – working for Beryl and trying to kill us!” she snapped, glaring at him as he tried to cut her off again.  “But then I remember you from the Silver Millennium, or I think I do, and I remember you from after Beryl…the you from school…and you can’t just do that, Zane!”

 

She wondered when she had gotten close enough to slap him.  He looked as startled by it as she was.  She hit his shoulder again, for good measure.

 

“I was fine – I was happy!  I had my studies, and I had my goals, and then you came along and messed everything up with your easy-going nature and your annoying touching and your ridiculous smile and your stupid eyes!  And then Luna woke us up, but you were still there, and…I couldn’t believe I was actually falling for the enemy!  I hated myself for it!  What’s worse, I didn’t need you distracting me!  I still don’t!” she was yelling.  She was crying, too.  When did that happen?

 

“Ami…” he breathed, and then he was hugging her – more annoying touching!  She tried to push away from him, but he held her tight and soon she had collapsed against his chest.  He held her as she sobbed, his one hand rubbing soothing circles on her back as the other combed through her hair.  “I’m sorry, mo chroí.  I’m so sorry.  It’s ok.”

 

“It’s not,” she gasped, her fist tightening in his shirt.  She realized her gloves were missing: at some point she had released her transformation, but she didn’t know when.  “You left me, Zoisite!”

 

“I know.  I’m sorry,” he whispered, holding her closer.  “It won’t happen ever again.  You’re stuck with me now, all right?  I love you.  Then and now.”

 

And that was the worst of it, because she wanted to so desperately to believe him but knew that she couldn’t.  Not yet, at least.  Maybe not ever.  He was here, now, but he had been there then, too.  And Beryl had still taken him.  She felt she could come to depend on this man, just as she had back then, only to have him taken away without a moment’s notice – and the thought was paralyzing.

 

She wasn’t sure how long they stood there, hidden from the rest of the park by the trees, but a distant part of her was aware that it must be getting late.  She should be getting home.  Still, he refused to let her go, and she found she wasn’t as concerned with that as she probably should be.  She did wonder, however, when he had started kissing her head like that.

 

“So…I get it’s probably maybe a bit early to ask, but…” he started much later, when her breathing had finally steadied and the tears had seemed to stop, “but…does this mean you won’t kick me out if I show up for tutoring tomorrow?  We can even meet at the Crown.  Nice, neutral territory.”

 

She couldn’t help it.  She was still furious, and hurt, and betrayed, but…somehow, she also felt it was going to be ok.  It would all work out.  And the idiot – _eejit_ , his cocky voice chimed in her mind – holding her was somehow going to make it all better.

 

“I…yeah,” she finally said, nodding stiffly against him.  “I think that would be ok.”

 

If anything, she had a feeling her mother would be ecstatic she had apparently reconciled with the charming Murphy-san.


	20. The Barmbrack Knows All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s his first Halloween outside of his native country, and Zane is finding himself homesick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: “The Barmbrack Knows All”  
> Fandom: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon  
> Prompt: 805 (Disappointed)  
> Character/Pairing: Mizuno Ami, Zane Murphy/Zoisite; Zoisite x Ami  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen  
> Word Count: 3,552  
> Summary: It’s his first Halloween outside of his native country, and Zane is finding himself homesick.  
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.  
> Authors Notes: College-aged/pre-Crystal Tokyo. I started this last Halloween after what was undoubtedly the worst Halloween of my life when I was in desperate need of some therapy!fic. Halloweens aren’t meant to be bad, friends. They’re meant for magic. (…I was going to save this and post during Halloween, but I’ve been jonesin’, guys. It doesn’t help that I follow a crap ton of Halloween/Fautumn blogs on Tumblr, and apparently even though it’s still June Halloween is actually trending? My people are speaking!)

“Zane!  Food!”

 

“I’m coming, I’m coming!”

 

He hopped over the last two steps, bending over to scratch behind the dog’s ears as he landed.  Molly yipped at him, wagging her tail as she followed him into the dining room.

 

“That dog is going to miss you,” his aunt said, pointing an accusing finger at him like it was his fault his father had taken a job a continent away.  He hit his knees and let the collie jump up on him, laughing as he ruffled the fur around her ears.

 

“I know, Auntie – I’ll miss my girl, too!” he said.  “Won’t I, sweetheart?  Yes, I will!”

 

“Zane, get up off the floor.  And wash your hands before you sit at my table!” his mother chided as she brought a steaming dish in.  She gave a quick glance over the table, frowning as she tried to recall what was missing.  She snapped her fingers and looked at his older brother.  “Kas, dear, can you get the barmbrack?  Can’t very well start supper without it!”

 

“Yes, ma’am,” Kassim murmured before going to the kitchen.  His aunt sighed as she watched him go, and his father gave her a look as Zane took the seat beside Kassim’s empty chair.

 

“What’s the look for, Colleen?” Dr. Murphy asked, and his sister glared at him.

 

“You know what for, Daniel!” she huffed.  “This is my last Halloween with my boys!  I can’t believe you’re taking them away from me.”

 

“They’re old enough to stay if they wanted,” Dr. Murphy said.  As platitudes went, it wasn’t as appeasing as it could have been.  They’d already had this conversation many times over the past two months.

 

“Free education if I follow you,” Zane said, rolling his eyes.  “And like you or mam would let either of us stay here alone.”

 

“They’d let me,” Kassim said as he returned.  He placed the bread in the center of the table before sitting down.  “It’s your own fault you’re a hellion.”

 

“Am not!  And they would not!” Zane protested.  He turned desperate eyes to their parents.  “Right?  You wouldn’t let him stay by himself!”

 

“Of course not,” their mother huffed as she sat down.  “I couldn’t leave either of my boys here to be lonely.”

 

He stuck his tongue out at his brother, but Kassim just rolled his eyes as he took his bowl back from their father.  Their mother scolded him halfheartedly before telling him to give their father his bowl.  He grinned when it was returned, piled high with steaming colcannon.  It was a simple dish, but it was one of his favorites – like the _mac n’ cheese_ his American buddy Chris was so fond of.

 

“I still don’t see why you have to go teach in Japan of all places,” Aunt Colleen groused as she dashed a bit of salt over her food.  She tossed some over her shoulder for good measure before glaring at her brother.  “You have a perfectly respectable job teaching here.”

 

“The university is downsizing,” the good professor explained for what felt like the thousandth time.  “Fairy tales are the first to go in our progressive world when the cutbacks come.  So it was either Japan or Berkley.”

 

“Pah!  America!”  Aunt Colleen huffed as she took some bread from their mother.  “Thank you, dear.  What do Americans know about university?  I still say you should have put in at Cambridge!  Oxford!  Now, those are respectable schools!”

 

“Of course, Colleen,” their father said good naturedly, but he was giving Zane a conspiratorial smirk as his sister continued her rant about American schools.  The smirk was replaced by a wince as he took a bite of his bread.  He pulled out a tiny square of paper, and he laughed as he unwrapped it and held a coin up for all to see.  “Ha!  Well, that’s a good omen if ever I’ve seen one, eh?”

 

“Aye!  See, Colleen?” his mother asked, smearing butter on her own bread.  “A prosperous year!  The move will be good for us!”

 

“Doubtful,” Zane quipped as he picked up his own slice of bread.  He eyed it suspiciously, half expecting to get the rag.  Or the thimble.  With his luck, he’d get the thimble.  “At least it’ll be an adventure, but it won’t be home.”

 

He bit into his bread.  Nothing.  Shrugging, he put the bread down and continued on his potatoes.  His aunt snorted as she unwrapped her token.

 

“Oh, you plan this, don’t you?” she laughed, holding up the thimble.  They all laughed: Aunt Colleen had received the thimble every year for as long as any of them could remember.  Not that she ever complained about it, of course.  She was a big-hearted woman but a perpetual spinster.  She’d had many boyfriends and flings over the years, but she had long ago determined that she would never settle down.  She bred dogs on a farm just outside of town, and she always said her pups were enough for her.

 

“The barmbrack knows all,” Dr. Murphy said with a wink.  “Now, enough of this sad talk!  What do you boys have planned for tonight?  Any fiendish endeavors?”

 

“I have a paper to finish,” Kassim offered.  Zane rolled his eyes.  “Then I was planning on getting ahead on some reading.”

 

“You need to learn to have fun, Kass,” Zane quipped.  “Now, me?  Heading out with the boys.  Declan has a few parties he’s wanting to check out, and Paul’s bringing some girls from Kinsale.  We’re gonna have a grand ol’ time.”

 

“You should go with ‘em, Kass,” Aunt Colleen said.  “Live a little.  What else is Halloween for if not fun?  You’re always so serious.”

 

“I prefer to stay in,” he answered, his smile kind but his voice impassive.  “Once I complete Garda, I’m sure I’ll be out every Halloween.  Probably reigning this hellion in.”

 

“Oi!  Offense!” Zane cried.  He bit into his bread and grinned as his teeth hit something hard.  He pulled out his little packet and waved it threateningly at Kassim.  “I’ll keep your job interesting, I will!”

 

He unwrapped his packet and froze, his eyes going wide as they landed on a ring.

 

“Ha!  Interesting, all right!” Aunt Colleen crowed as she slapped the table.  “See, Daniel?  You can’t take him away now – he’s got his love to meet!”

 

“And how do you know he won’t meet her in Japan?” their father posed, making her scowl.  “Maybe he’ll meet a nice girl and finally decide to stop leaving a trail of broken hearts across Cork.”

 

“Hopefully in time to prevent the trail he’s bound to leave across Tokyo,” his mother added, and he gave her an injured look.  It wasn’t his fault he had no interest in anything more serious than flings.

 

“It’s…it’s just a silly tradition,” he said quickly, stuffing the ring in his pocket and trying his best to forget about it.  Meet his love his foot.  And in Japan?  Like hell that’d happen. That would mean staying in Tokyo, and he had every intention to return after school.  After…no.  Superstitions and silly traditions.  The ring meant absolutely nothing.  He stuffed the last of his potatoes in his mouth.  “Means nothing beyond some harmless fun.  Or maybe it’s all moot – maybe it’s one of Paul’s girls, and Aunt Colleen will get her wish and I’ll end up staying!”

 

“Now wouldn’t that be something!” his aunt laughed, though his mother looked less than pleased with his suggestion.  Still, he threw his aunt a wink as he excused himself from the table.  It was pointless, anyway – what could possibly be waiting for him in Japan that would beat what he had here?  And what he had here, waiting just beyond the door, was a brilliant Halloween.

 

– V –

 

Smoke curled from the end of his cigarette.  He watched with hooded, lazy eyes as it rose into the crisp night.  It would have been colder back home, he couldn’t help but think.

 

_Except this is home now,_ that traitorous little voice in the back of his mind whispered.

 

_Except it’s always been home, hasn’t it?_ he couldn’t help but agree.

 

He looked back over his shoulder to the flat he was sharing with another student from the university.  It was dark, but not in the way it should be.  There were no cobwebs hanging from the windows, no skeletons lurking in their closets.  He hadn’t even been able to find a damned pumpkin to carve up and ward the spirits away.  It was…depressing.

 

When his father had first landed the job at the University of Tokyo, he had known moving to Japan would be an adjustment.  Eastern culture and all that, new country – it would take time to get used to things.  And then he had stumbled upon Mamoru at the café near campus, and the memories had started to return.  He was just starting to figure out where he fit in in this new world only to remember it wasn’t really that new after all.

 

His father had wanted him to have a proper college experience, so he hadn’t been allowed to live with his parents at the condo the university had set them up with.  Dr. Murphy had also forbidden him from living with his older brother Kassim, hoping branching away from the family would facilitate the adjustment period, and a housing mix-up had landed him with…Takeshi.  Takeshi wouldn’t have been his first choice, but he supposed it was the life experience his father had been looking for him to have.

 

He sighed and dropped his withering cigarette, stomping it out with the toe of his boot.  This was supposed to be a night for ghosts, but the only ones he seemed to be finding were the ones in his mind.  The Japanese had their own festival – the _Urabon_ – but it was two months early and just not the same.  He missed the raucous, the crisp chill that signaled the change into the darker part of the year, the bright costumes and the excited children, the decorations…he even missed his mam’s colcannon and barmbrack, which she had tried her best to replicate, but it just hadn’t been the same.  (He remembered with a sense of irony how he had received the ring last year.  Dr. Murphy had laughed, saying that perhaps he’d finally find a nice girl and settle down.  Then came the move, then came Mamoru, and…well.  He still wasn’t sure last year’s token had been completely accurate.)

 

He didn’t feel like going back inside.  Takeshi would be there, studying for midterms.  Takeshi hadn’t let him decorate.  He saw it as frivolous, since no one else would be celebrating the ‘holiday’.  An unnecessary distraction.  No one else would have their windows or flats decorated, so why should they waste the time and effort?  No costumes – that was only something those crazy cosplayers did, and why should he participate in that?  No pumpkins.  (He had been talking to another expat on campus who had winked at him as he said he carved turnips, just like the old days, but it just wasn’t the same.)

 

He groaned as he drug a hand down his face.  He needed to get out.  His feet were itching, desperate for some mischief and mayhem.  …well.  Not _mayhem_ , per se – more just…something.  Adventure.  Magic.  That feeling when you’re walking home at three in the morning and a crisp wind blows by, carrying with it the residual spirits making their flight back home, and shivers overtake you.  By this point last year, he had already been tossed out of three pubs and was busy sneaking through someone’s backyard on his way to another.  Paul had bailed early in the night, leaving with one of the girls he had brought along, and Declan – after another few stops – had pissed on a garda and found himself in lockup for the night.

 

(Ironically enough, he had just received a wedding invitation from him.  He couldn’t wait to make _that_ speech come June.)

 

With another sigh, he chucked his dwindling cigarette at the ground and stomped it out with his boot.

 

“You know you really shouldn’t smoke,” a voice to his side said, and he jumped as he looked up to find Ami watching him disapprovingly.

 

And then there was that.

 

He actually hadn’t met Mamoru first, back in that café.  Mamoru had been with Ami, helping her study for an upcoming exam, and he had bumped into Ami while she was getting them coffees.  He hadn’t remembered her at the time, but he had immediately been struck by the thought that she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.  And despite his flirting, because that’s just who he was, the memory of the ring in his barmbrack immediately stamped out any further inclinations on the shy beauty who clearly, despite his best charms, was not interested.  Until Mamoru had approached them, and they had shaken hands, and then…

 

It’s not that he was actively pursuing her, anyway.  Well.  More like it’s not like she was letting him.  His father had found no end of amusement at the change that had overcome his youngest son, but of course he entirely attributed it to the quiet student he’d seen him chasing around campus.  (Instead of, y’know, remembering your past life.  And a little bit of how that quiet student was involved, but mostly it was the reincarnation thing.)

 

“See?” Dr. Murphy had laughed one night at dinner a month after he’d met Mamoru.  “The barmbrack knows all.”

 

If only he knew.

 

She had walked over to him and leaned on the other side of the pole he had been occupying.  He didn’t want to admit how thrilled he was that her side was touching his, so he rifled in his pocket for the rest of his cigarettes.  She deftly plucked the pack from his hands when he produced it, and he grinned at her slightly as he asked, “So what brings you here?  Other than apparently trying to squelch my bad habits.”

 

“They’ll kill you,” she said crossly, “and I don’t think I’m quite used to having you back yet to lose you again so soon.”

 

That certainly gave him pause.

 

“Anyway, I was wondering if you had any plans for tonight?” she continued when he failed to respond.  He didn’t even protest when she tossed his smokes in a nearby bin.  She glanced up at him, and he realized with surprise that she looked…nervous.  She was even chewing her lower lip.  Like she was scared he’d refuse her.

 

Like _he’d_ been the one refusing _her_ for the past eight months.

 

“Not if you’re asking,” he said quickly, grinning as he reached out and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer.  She squeaked, her face flaming even in the darkness.  “Are you asking, Ami?”

 

“I…that is…yes,” she finally said, taking a steadying breath before she looked back to him.  “I’m asking.  Did you have plans?”

 

“I was about to find some,” he said honestly.  “Roommate’s driving me mad, and I had to get out.  Didn’t know where I was going yet, but I guess with you, eh?”

 

She smiled wryly at him before slipping out from under his arm.  She didn’t go far before reaching back and taking his hand, though.  It wasn’t as much as he’d like, but it was something.  Progress.

 

“Then come on,” she said.  “I have a surprise for you.”

 

– V –

 

He’d been to her condo once before, with Mamoru, though he didn’t think she was actually aware of it.  It had been back in May, as the weather was just starting to turn.  She had caught a bad cold right before finals, and Mamoru had gone to offer some notes he still had from some of her classes (and a container of soup, courtesy Makoto and Usagi).  At the time, Ami was still lukewarm around him at best, but he had insisted on tagging along the moment he heard she was sick.  Mamoru hadn’t had the heart to deny him, though through most of the visit he had stayed near the door.  Or the kitchen – he had put the soup away and made a cup of tea for Mamoru to take her before they left.

 

This was the first time she was actively inviting him in, though.  He wanted to make a comment marking the occasion, crowing over the progress, when she opened the door and his mind crashed to a halt.  Looking at the condo before him, his eyes wide, he came to a realization.

 

He feckin’ loved this girl.

 

The main lights were off, but twinkling orange and purple lights were strung up around the living room.  Their eerie glow was intensified by the candles scattered on tables and shelves – an antique lantern was even set between the feet of a plastic skeleton hunched over in a chair.  A broom (that looked suspiciously like one from Rei’s temple) was propped beside it, a black witch’s hat hanging from the handle.  Yarn had been woven into cobwebs and strung from corners and over edges, and a set of cheery glass jack-o-lanterns grinned at him from the table behind the sofa.  Glitter-covered plastic bats hung from the main light, twinkling as they moved in the breeze from the vent.  There was even what looked like a large watermelon – _a watermelon!_ – carved with a scary face by the coffee table, where sat…

 

He laughed as he walked over to the table, his eyes dancing as they landed on the dinner she’d set out for them.  A steaming cauldron – _cauldron!_ – of colcannon sat in the center, smaller bowls waiting alongside a loaf of what he knew would be barmbrack.  Goblets decorated with more cobwebs and plastic spiders sat next to a decanter of dark red liquid.  There was even a small trick-or-treat pail filled with his favorite candies from back home.  On the corner of the table, near the remote, sat a stack of scary movies.  He turned back to her, shaking his head in wonder as he gestured about the room.  The smile she was giving him was the icing on the cake.

 

“You haven’t really been yourself lately,” she explained with a helpless little shrug.  “Kassim was telling me how much you love Halloween, and how you’ve been really homesick lately.  I’ll admit I don’t really understand the finer details of the night, but I hope this will do?”

 

“Ami…” he walked over to her, grinning as he took her hands in his own.  “Mo chara…a stór…I’m going to hug you now.  I hope that will do?”

 

She was blushing again, but the smile didn’t leave her face as she looked away.  “It…I would not oppose.”

 

“You are an angel,” he breathed as he pulled her close.  She was tense for a moment, but then she leaned into him and he just held her tighter.  Without warning, he picked her up and spun her around with a laugh.  She shrieked and grabbed onto his shoulders, but then he set her down and kissed her forehead, and when he pulled back she didn’t seem all that upset.  “You…I can’t believe you did all this.  You don’t even like scary movies!”

 

“But you do,” she said, and he kissed her forehead again.  “Your mom helped me with the cooking.  I hope it’s ok – and the bread is actually from your Aunt Colleen.  I was afraid it wouldn’t get here in time, but it arrived this morning.  She sent the candy, too.  She was…”

 

As she continued on about how she had pulled it all off, he found himself in a daze.  He was amazed at the detail she had put into everything – the planning, the time…and it was all for him.  Because she had noticed he was homesick.  Because she cared.  About him.  She was starting to ramble, so he leaned in and kissed her cheek.  She squeaked as her mouth snapped shut, and he smiled at her.

 

“I love it.  Thank you,” he said.  He raised her hand and placed a kiss on her knuckles, just for good measure.  “And it’s probably early yet, and you might get upset at me for saying it, but I love you.  This is incredible, Ami.  Really.  Thank you.”

 

She didn’t say anything in response, but – despite what he was starting to consider a permanent blush staining her face – she was smiling as she led him to the couch.  She scooped colcannon into their bowls as he picked out a movie, and soon they were snuggled up with their dinner as the opening credits played.  It still didn’t taste quite like home, but he found he didn’t really mind anymore.  It was just close enough to count, and Ami had made it, and he was starting to think maybe this life here wasn’t going to be so bad, after all.  When she bit into her bread and squeaked, wide eyes turning to him as she pulled a small plastic ring from her piece, he found himself laughing (despite the screams coming from the movie) in delight as his father’s words once again came back to him.

 

Maybe, he thought as he slipped the ring from Ami’s fingers and slid it onto her right hand (“Zane, no!  Shouldn’t we wash it first?”), the barmbrack really does know all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Colcannon: Traditional Irish meal served on Halloween. It’s just mashed potatoes and cabbage/kale, and I’ve seen some variations that mix ham in it, but it’s absolutely delicious.
> 
> Barmbrack: Traditional Irish fruit bread served on Halloween. Tradition has it that four symbolic objects are hidden in the bread for the family to find: a rag (financial future is unstable), a coin (your year will be prosperous), a ring (impending romance/continued happiness), and a thimble (you will never marry).


	21. Best-Laid Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because “you both like books” is not a sufficient basis for a relationship, your Highness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: “Best-Laid Plans”  
> Fandom: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon  
> Prompt: 801 (Serenity)  
> Character/Pairing: Princess Serenity, Prince Endymion, Brigid/Mizuno Ami, Zoisite; Endymion x Serenity, Zoisite x Ami  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen  
> Word Count: 5,994  
> Summary: Because “you both like books” is not a sufficient basis for a relationship, your Highness.  
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.  
> Authors Notes: Silver Millennium. When I first saw this prompt, I swore I wouldn’t take the easy way out and go “MOON PRINCESS!” Well-p, best laid plans ‘n all that.

It was no secret that the Moon Princess was captivated by the shining blue planet her home orbited.

 

What was a bit more of a secret was that she had been sneaking off to visit it for…oh, about five months now?

 

Which was really impressive, considering she had managed to keep that secret from her beloved Senshi – save Hathor, who kept her cover when necessary.

 

During that time, she had become rather close (ok, fine, _enamored_ ) with the Golden Kingdom’s Crown Prince.  She was also growing rather fond of his personal guard, though that fondness was nowhere near the level of affection she held for their Prince.

 

“It really is a shame, you know,” she commented one night as she lay in Endymion’s arms.  He murmured noncommittally, distracted as he was by the way the moonlight danced in her hair.  “ _Dimi_.  I mean it.”

 

“Apologies, my love,” he said.  He kissed the crown of her head as his fingers continued to brush through her pigtails.  “What’s a shame, now?”

 

“That you can’t come see me on the Moon,” she said simply.  He sighed heavily, and she knew she had his full attention now.  It was, after all, an argument they had had many times since she had first tumbled down to his gardens on a moonbeam.

 

“You know I would love to,” he sighed, “but communication between Terra and the rest of the Alliance –”

 

“Is strictly prohibited, I know,” she said primly.  She rolled her eyes for good measure – a most unladylike gesture, but one she felt was called for.  “But that doesn’t change how much I wish you could.  If Terra could only join the Alliance…it would make this much easier, don’t you agree?”

 

“You know I desire nothing more than Terra taking its place in the Alliance,” he said thickly, voice muffled as he nuzzled her neck, “if for no other reason than finally claiming you as my Queen.”

 

“And who says _I_ wouldn’t be claiming _you_ as King?  Dimi, stop,” she giggled as he brushed against a particularly sensitive spot.  He continued his assault, and she half-heartedly pushed against him.  They both knew she wouldn’t be moving any time soon.  “It’s just that I was thinking…”

 

“Always dangerous,” he quipped, and she laughed as he dipped down for a proper kiss.

 

“I was just _thinking_ ,” she said sternly when he pulled back, “that I love Terra _so much_ , you know?”

 

“Mhm,” he hummed in agreement, “as it loves you.”

 

“And it’s a shame I’m the only one who gets to love it, you know?” she continued, her fingers dancing along his chest.  “It almost seems…selfish.”

 

“…is this your way of saying you want to see other people?” Endymion asked, pulling back with raised eyebrows.  She looked horrified at the suggestion.

 

“No!  Of course not!  Endymion, you are _mine_ ,” she said fiercely, rising up to kiss him soundly and chase away any doubts he could possibly entertain on the matter.  When she pulled away, her eyes danced away from him to look over her shoulder.  He followed her gaze, frowning as he realized she was staring at their lookout ( _escort_ , he thought bitterly) for the evening: Zoisite, lounging in the lower boughs of a tree and nose-deep in a book.  As he usually was when Kunzite made him escort the royals.  “Terra just has _so much_ to offer, and the Moon might have some offerings of its own to make…”

 

“Sere, what on Earth is going through that pretty little head of yours?” he asked suspiciously, and she turned back to give him an innocent smile.

 

“Why, my love, the _Earth_ , of course,” she giggled.

 

– V –

 

“Lord Zoisite!”

 

The man looked up, startled eyes letting the Moon Princess know exactly how lost in his book he’d been.  There was something about the smirk on her face that gave him pause.  She looked angelic, as always, but underlying that innocent curve of her lips…

 

“Princess,” he said, bowing.  “I was not aware the Prince was expecting you this evening.”

 

“Oh, it’s a bit of a surprise,” she twittered.  “I have some exciting news for him.”

 

“Indeed?” Zoisite asked, and she giggled in response.  Her gaze shifted to the thick tome in his hands.

 

“Soooo…” she started, and the nerves returned.  “I see you like…books.”

 

“I…” he frowned, unsure of what exactly she was implying and how he should respond.  “Yes?”

 

“That’s great!  Books are great, you know,” she said, winking at him.  “I know someone else who likes books a lot, too.”

 

And she twirled away in search of her Prince, leaving a very confused Shitennou behind.  Later, after she had returned to the Moon and Endymion was lounging on a bench in a Serenity-addled dopey haze, Zoisite closed his book and gave the Prince a concerned look.

 

“My liege, I hope you do not take offense to what I am about to say, but…” he started, and Endymion lifted concerned eyes to the youngest of his men.  Zoisite’s frown deepened, his fingers worrying at a stray fiber of the book’s binding.  “…I think Princess Serenity was… _flirting_ with me earlier.”

 

The Northern King was left even more confused at the raucous laughter that caused his Prince to fall from the bench, gripping his sides in his mirth.

 

– V –

 

“Ne, Brigid,” Serenity began, her blue eyes staring longingly at the forbidden planet suspended in the sky, “do you ever think about visiting Terra?”

 

The most reserved of her Senshi looked up from her book with surprised eyes.

 

“Terra?  Of course not,” she said simply.  “Why would I think about that?  You know contact with that planet is prohibited.”

 

“Yes, but aren’t you curious?” Serenity pressed, turning her full attention to her.  “All those books you read, surely you’ve come across some passage about the planet, from before communications ceased?”

 

“Of course,” Brigid answered, “but I hardly see how that would be relevant.  The Alliance prohibits all contact with –”

 

“Terra, I know,” Serenity sighed.  She frowned as she looked back to the book she was supposed to be studying.  “It’s just…”

 

“Princess?”

 

“Up here, on the Moon…it’s just us, Brigid.  All of you are always so busy watching over me.  And when you’re not, Hathor has her conquests, and Fuchi has her temples, and Cocijo has her gardens…but you’re always in the library, or the lab, and…aren’t you lonely, Brigid?  Aren’t all of you lonely?”

 

“Princess?” Brigid asked again, her tone more startled this time.  Serenity frowned as she turned a page.

 

“I worry about all of you, Brigid,” she answered absently, “but I think I worry about you most.”

 

– V –

 

In the end, it was Serenity’s idea – but, as the Senshi of Love, Hathor supported her one hundred percent.  Besides, she had argued, if Serenity hoped to gain her guardians’ assistance in advocating an alliance with Terra to the Queen, it only made sense that they’d get a chance to experience the planet as Serenity had.  Serenity had just smiled at her oldest and closest friend, knowing that a certain silver-haired king had more than a little to do with her thinking.

 

Hathor had accompanied her to the planet on more than a few occasions as well, after all, and Serenity hadn’t been the only one to find herself completely enchanted with what it had to offer.  And Hathor was, as the Senshi of Love, a notorious yenta.

 

They told the other Senshi slowly, one at a time.  Fuchi went first because they expected her reaction to be the most violent, so they wanted to get it out of the way.  Besides, if Fuchi agreed, surely the others would as well?  Serenity had expected a fight, screaming, rage-fueled insults being slung her way – but when she had approached her Martian guardian, Fuchi had merely heaved a weary sigh and told her to lead the way.

 

“The fire,” Fuchi had explained when Serenity questioned how she had known.  “I do not approve, Princess, but I’ve seen it will all work out in the end.  So I’m not happy that you’ve kept this from us for so long, but I will go along with your schemes.”

 

The Martian hadn’t been openly hostile to their hosts, but to say she had been cordial would have been a stretch.  Still, Jadeite had done his best to endear her towards the planet as Serenity and Endymion talked a short distance away.  By the time they returned to the Moon, Fuchi had actually been smiling.

 

Cocijo, always the more adventurous of the four, had been eager to visit the planet.  She had been as captivated by the Golden Palace’s gardens as Serenity had been, and when they had rounded the bend to find Endymion waiting by the gazebo with Nephrite in toe…Serenity had giggled as two of the fiercest soldiers she knew were struck dumb by the site of each other.

 

“Offerings,” she had later giggled to Endymion as Nephrite and Cocijo walked along the garden’s perimeter.  Things were going rather swimmingly, if she did say so herself.

 

– V –

 

“So you plan to advocate the Earth to your mother,” Zoisite said, frowning as Serenity bounced before him, “with the assistance of your Senshi.  And your ultimate plan to gain their assistance was to…play matchmaker.”

 

“No!” Serenity pouted, coming to rest as she crossed her arms across her chest.  “I had no such intentions.  I just wanted them to come to love Terra as much as I do.”

 

“You wanted them to come to love Terra by hoping they’d love specific Terrans,” Zoisite pressed, and Serenity groaned as she looked at Endymion.

 

“Dimi!  Make him stop!” she whined, but the Prince only chuckled.

 

“I told you he was good,” he said.  Zoisite smirked slightly at the praise.  “I also told you this was a harebrained scheme at best.”

 

“I care about my girls!” Serenity pouted.  “I just want them to be as happy as I am!  And you make me happy, and Kunzite makes Hathor happy, so I thought –”

 

“Jadeite and Nephrite would make Fuchi and Cocijo happy?” Endymion asked, and Serenity beamed at him.

 

“Exactly!  I knew you’d understand,” she cooed.  Zoisite’s sigh pulled her attention back to their escort, who was pinching the bridge of his nose.

 

“I suppose I should just be glad I was left out of your plots,” he sighed.  When the two failed to answer, his eyes narrowed at them in suspicion.  “…no.  Endymion!”

 

“It’s just…remember when I said I know someone who likes books?” Serenity asked, a perfectly innocent – a diabolically innocent – smile gracing her face.

 

– V –

 

Upon their first meeting, Zoisite was not struck dumb by Brigid’s beauty.  He was not left quaking in terror at her withering glares and threats of physical harm should he step one toe out of line.  He also was not left with the impression that a goddess had just fallen to the Earth before him in awe-struck wonder.

 

Upon seeing Princess Brigid of Mercury for the first time, Zoisite merely thought: _Well, she really likes books._

 

He focused on this thought because otherwise he was fairly certain he was going to do something fairly rude, harmful, and definitely illegal.

 

Endymion’s steadying hand on his shoulder also helped keep that desire in check.

 

They had gone to the gardens as planned to find Serenity and the last of her Senshi already there.  Zoisite wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t a heated argument between a livid Senshi and a teary-eyed Moon Princess.

 

“…cannot believe you, Serenity!” Brigid was seething as they approached.  She was not yelling – she would not risk their cover for that – but perhaps that was what made it all the worse.  Her eyes blazed in a cold fury, and her voice was sharp in its hissed whispers.  “Do you have any idea what you are risking with all this?  The danger you have put yourself and the Alliance in?  Goddess, what will your _mother_ say?  And now you have involved us, and for what?  This is useless, Princess!”

 

She paced a few agitated steps, pulling at her short hair in frustration, before she turned back to Serenity and grabbed her wrist.

 

“We are going home _now_ , your Highness, and you will do well to put these ridiculous notions far from your mind!  An alliance with _Terra_ , of all places!” the Senshi hissed.

 

“Brigid, no!  Please – let me go!” Serenity whimpered, tugging her wrist back.  “You don’t understand – if you just met Endymion, and I know you’ll just love Zoisite –”

 

“Terrans are coming?!” Brigid gasped, her eyes widening.  “You have _Terrans_ coming to meet us?!  Serenity, what in Selene’s name were you _thinking_?!”

 

“She was thinking we liked books,” Zoisite quipped, cutting into their argument.  When Brigid spun, immediately assuming a protective stance before her princess, he found himself glaring at her.  “Ergo we would like each other.  A gross overestimation on her part, I can assure you.”

 

“Endymion!” Serenity cried, pushing past Brigid to fall into his arms.  He ran a comforting hand along her hair and glared at the Senshi who had brought his love to tears.  Brigid failed to relax under the withering looks.  “I’m so sorry!”

 

“You have nothing to apologize for, Serenity,” Endymion reassured her.

 

“You were not the one so blatantly disparaging our planet,” Zoisite added.  He nodded curtly in their other guest’s direction.  “I believe you owe the Princess an apology.”

 

“I owe no such thing – she is the one blatantly breaking galactic law!” Brigid said.  She groaned and rubbed at her temples.  “When your mother finds out…what was Venus thinking, condoning this?”

 

“Probably that Kunzite would look good naked,” Zoisite muttered, and he was stunned to feel her gloved palm connecting solidly with his cheek.  He gaped at her, touching where she had slapped him.

 

“How dare you,” she hissed, “speak so shamefully of a member of the Lunarian court!”

 

“I meant no disrespect,” he said coolly.  He folded his arms behind his back, his fists clenching as he eyed her.  “I am rather fond of Hathor, Princess Brigid, but I am sure you are well aware of how she is.”

 

His eyes widened as she slapped him again.

 

“You will address me as Sailor Mercury,” she said, her tone leaving no room for discussion on the matter.  She returned her glare to the whimpering Princess.  “We are returning to the Moon _now_ , Princess.  We have risked enough lingering this long.”

 

“Brigid, _please_ , if you’d just calm down and talk to Zoisite I’m sure –” Serenity entreated, reaching out to place a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder.  Brigid winced away from her, and Zoisite was surprised to see something else briefly replace the anger in the soldier’s eyes: _fear_.

 

“No, Princess,” she said firmly.  Her eyes darted around the clearing like a caged animal, but she quickly regained her composure and once more reached for Serenity’s wrist.  When she had a firm grip on the Moon Princess, the cool mask once again slid into place.  “We are leaving.  _Now._ ”

 

And, just like that, they vanished.  Zoisite turned to Endymion with an unamused look.

 

“Well,” he said, a good bit of false cheer coloring his words, “that went well.”

 

– V –

 

Despite her threats, Brigid did not tell Queen Serenity about the Princess’s indiscretions.

 

That did not mean the Moon Princess spoke to her outside of necessity for a very long time.

 

It also didn’t keep the others from continuing to sneak away to the Golden Kingdom.

 

And, two months later, it did not stop Queen Serenity from acquiescing to her daughter’s pleas and inviting Prince Endymion and his Shitennou to visit the Moon Kingdom and begin peace talks.

 

– V –

 

Queen Serenity had thrown a magnificent celebration in welcome of her guests.  The evening began with a lavish feast followed by an extravagant ball.  The Queen had spared no expense, and dignitaries from every planet were present to greet the party from the Moon’s neighboring planet.  It seemed, to Prince Endymion and his guard, that Princess Serenity and her Senshi had not been the only ones eager to welcome Terra back into the Alliance.  Despite some brief moments of tension, the overall air of the night was pleasant.

 

Brigid didn’t know how to feel about this.  She wasn’t opposed to opening communications with Terra, per se, but she didn’t necessarily share her sisters’ enthusiasm, either.  Brigid was a woman of facts, and the facts she knew were that Terra was an underdeveloped planet, largely lacking in magic and relying heavily on brute force, and some centuries ago a Shadow had blighted its surface.  It had turned its people, and contact with the planet had become unsafe for its neighbors in the Alliance – and so Queen Selenity I had severed ties.

 

Terra had been forced from the Alliance for a reason, and Brigid was not ashamed to say that she trusted the reason had been a good one.  Serenity had been right: she had read accounts of the planet, and they had terrified her.  She did not wish to see her home and those she loved threatened because of…

 

“I still believe Princess Serenity’s assumption that we would like each other was a gross overestimation,” a voice cut into her musings, and she sucked in a breath as she saw Lord Zoisite bowed before her.  His hand was extended, and there was a mischievous glint in his eyes as he looked up at her.  “…but as our fellows have all paired up already and we are expected to join in the dance, I hope you can tolerate my presence long enough to be my partner?”

 

She desperately wished to decline such a _tempting_ offer, but the Queen was watching her with a kind smile and expectant eye.  Lord Zoisite’s smile warmed as she wordlessly laid her hand in his own and allowed him to lead her onto the dancefloor.

 

“I know decorum demands it, but I honestly wasn’t expecting you to accept,” he chided as he held her close – closer than she was comfortable with, but not close enough to be considered improper for the dance.  She took a steadying breath and raised frosty eyes to him.

 

“As you said, my Lord, we were expected to join in the dance,” she said.

 

“So are you not a fan of dancing?” he pressed.  His eyes were kind, his smile good-natured – but all Brigid could think of was the sharp tones and piercing eyes from that night Serenity had spirited her away to the Earth.  For all of his friendly disposition, she knew a hardened bru… _warrior_ lay underneath.  “Or are you just not a fan of me?”

 

“I am not a fan of being imposed upon,” she said curtly, and he had the audacity to chuckle.

 

“Something we can agree on, at last!” he quietly cheered.  He dipped her quickly, and she fought a screech as he pulled her close upon righting her.  “From what the Princess tells us, you never did give her that apology.”

 

“I will apologize when I believe my actions merit one,” she cut.  “My responsibility is to my Princess and the Alliance.  I protect one to serve the other.  I was merely acting within my duties as a Senshi.”

 

“You really are a cold-hearted bitch, aren’t you?” he laughed as the music stopped, and she froze in his arms.  She could tell from his expression and tone that, while he was still annoyed with her, he meant no true harm with his words – but that didn’t stop the heated fury from stealing over her.  Her cheeks burned under his gaze, her lips pursed into a frown.  She ripped her hands from him and nodded her head curtly.

 

“I would excuse myself,” she said flatly, “but I suppose such manners are above a _cold-hearted bitch_.”

 

She spun away from him, her back rigid as she brisked past Serenity and Hathor.  She heard them descending upon Lord Zoisite, but she refused to care.  She refused to partake in this farce any longer, and determined steps found her walking past the concerned gaze of the Queen and out the back door.

 

It wasn’t until she had found herself in the library, safely tucked away in her favorite corner and curled up with the book she had left there hours before, that she allowed herself to admit that his words had actually hurt.

 

– V –

 

“So I would call last night an unmitigated success!”  Serenity cheered the next morning at breakfast.  The Princess and her Senshi – most of them, anyway – had decided to join Endymion and his Shitennou in the west gardens, where a light meal had been set out.  Serenity had been babbling nonstop, gushing over the previous night, how well the guests had treated the visiting Terrans, how much they had impressed her mother, how handsome the Prince had looked in his tuxedo…the members of their respective guards were sharing amused looks over sips of coffee and bites of egg.  The girls were used to such exuberance.  The men were quickly learning.

 

“It’s just a shame about Brigid,” Hathor sighed when Serenity finally reached a lull in her gushing.  “I was really hoping you two would get another chance to hit it off, Zoisite.  I know she seems stuffy, but we all agree that once you two really get to know each other you’ll be perfect together.”

 

“Honestly, more meddling?” Zoisite sighed as he looked up from the day’s itinerary.  “That seemed to be the only thing we could agree on last night before she left: neither of us appreciate how insistent you lot are being.”

 

“It’s not meddling!” Serenity huffed as she pierced a piece of melon with her fork.  “It’s sisterly concern!  We just want Brigid to be happy, and we firmly agree that you could make her happy!”

 

“I was under the impression that she was already quite happy on her own,” he muttered, turning his eyes back to the screen in his hand.

 

“I think what they’re trying to say,” Endymion cut in, shooting a look at the two blondes, “is that Princess Brigid is perfectly fine on her own, however they both have derived such joy from their own relationships that they only wish to see their fellow princess share in that joy.”

 

“And we just think you need to get laid,” Nephrite said crassly, causing half the table to choke on whatever they’d been eating while the others (Hathor, Cocijo, Fuchi, and Jadeite) erupted in laughter.  “Might help that stick lodged up your ass, brother.”

 

“Nephrite!” Kunzite said sharply, and the brunette rolled his eyes as he leaned back in his chair.

 

“While I can appreciate your…concern,” Zoisite began, pausing to shoot a withering look at his Western brother, “I must insist that I am perfectly fine remaining single.  We both are.  As Princess Brigid alluded last night, our duty is to our charges.  Getting tangled up in some torrid affair would just provide an unnecessary distraction.”

 

“Sheesh,” Hathor sighed, putting her fork down as she slumped back against Kunzite, “you really are perfect for each other.  You’re a cold-hearted bitch, too.”

 

“Funny,” Zoisite muttered as he attempted to turn his attention back to the itinerary, “she didn’t seem to share that sentiment when I said it last night.”

 

“YOU WHAT?!”

 

He looked up, honestly surprised at the shouts that had met his statement.  The crystal screen in his hand dropped to the table, forgotten, as he took in the horrified faces surrounding him.

 

“Zoisite, tell me you didn’t!” Cocijo cried, pinching the bridge of her nose.  “Is that why she left so early?”

 

“We thought she just didn’t feel well!” Serenity cried.  “Don’t tell me it was your fault!  Zoisite, please!”

 

“I hardly see what difference it makes,” he said.  “Hathor, you call her that all the time.  I assumed it was some odd Lunarian term of endearment.”

 

“On what planet is calling someone a bitch a term of endearment?!” Hathor shrieked.  “Yeah, I get away with it because she’s my friend – my sister – but I’m also not dumb enough to say it to her face!”

 

“Zoisite,” Endymion sighed, rubbing his temples, “I always thought you were the most intelligent man I knew…”

 

“Not a fucking idiot,” Nephrite deadpanned.

 

“I still don’t see…she was being rude!  She was openly hostile all night, and I was only sharing a sentiment already expressed by her fellow Senshi,” Zoisite huffed.  “I don’t see how I’m the bad guy here.”

 

“Because I don’t mean it when I say it!” Hathor groaned.  She leaned across the table, leveling a pointed finger his way.  “Look, let me put this plainly.  Brigid is a stickler for rules, propriety, conduct – everything.  She’s also very shy and reserved.  And she doesn’t handle change well.  Or people.”

 

Zoisite frowned.  He would call Princess Brigid many things, but shy was certainly not one of them – at least not in his experience.

 

“And when she gets uncomfortable, or scared, she freezes up,” Hathor continued.  “Ice isn’t just her power.  It’s like…she can come across as a cold-hearted bitch, right, but she’s not.  Right now she’s hurt because Serenity was sneaking off without telling her for so long, and she’s scared of how quickly everything’s changing.  And maybe, just maybe, instead of being an asshole she needs you to…y’know, be kind.  Not try and start a fight every five seconds.  And definitely not call her a cold-hearted bitch!”

 

“I merely stated that she still owed Serenity an apology for the first time she came to Earth, and she attacked me!  I did nothing –” he started, and Endymion silenced him with a look.

 

“Wrong, we know,” the Prince said tersely, “and that may be true, but perhaps in this instance it would be best to just mend bridges.  I expected better of you, Zoisite.”

 

“Fine,” he said with a huff.  He dropped the itinerary back on the table and stood, glaring at them all.  “I’ll go apologize.”

 

“She’ll be in the library!” Serenity called cheerfully, still smiling as she waved him off.  “She likes books!”

 

– V –

 

Sure enough, Zoisite found Brigid in the library.  Finding the library had been another matter entirely, of course, and then of course was the matter of finding her _within_ the library.  He had been amazed at the sheer size.  By telling him Brigid was in the library, Serenity might as well have been saying she was in the east wing of the palace.  Still, for its size, it was relatively empty.  He had been wandering the stacks about ten minutes before the sound of voices drew his attention.

 

“…hoping you’d come back,” an accented female voice said.  It wasn’t one he recognized.

 

“I will convey my apologies to the Queen later.  I was not feeling well, and so I left –” he heard Brigid answer.  He stopped at the edge of an aisle and peeked around the corner.  A small study had been set up at an intersection: a small table, piled high with books and scrolls and papers of all sorts, upon which a black cat – he recognized her as Luna, one of the Queen’s advisors – sat.  Brigid was curled up in an overstuffed chair by a window, thumbing through a thick book.

 

“Early, I know,” Luna said.  The cat sighed and hung her head.  “Princess Brigid, if I may…”

 

“I don’t want to hear it, Luna,” the princess said coldly.  The cat’s tail flicked in irritation.

 

“And yet you must,” she said crossly.  When Brigid looked up, Luna was glaring at her.  “This is a chance for _peace_ , highness.  Queen Serenity wants Terra included in the Alliance!”

 

“What?” Brigid asked, straightening in the chair.  Her eyes were wide as she stared at Luna.  “But…Luna!  Surely you’re not serious.  Terra is…there were reasons they were removed from the Alliance in the first place!”

 

“And those reasons are as outdated as the prejudices against the planet are,” Luna said.  She sat a bit straighter, leveling the princess with a firm glare.  “I know you are concerned, dear one, but all we ask is that you give them a chance.”

 

“And does the Queen know that Princess Serenity and the others have been sneaking down there for months?  That this whole charade has been jeopardized from the beginning, that –” Brigid started, but again Luna cut her off.

 

“Of course she knew!” the cat snapped.  “Princess, the Queen is no fool.  Of course she was aware.  Did you honestly think Princess Hathor would not have told her?  She is a better Senshi – a better _friend_ – than that.  Princess Serenity has found love, highness.  Is that truly so wrong?”

 

Brigid did not answer, instead sinking back into her chair in a sulking pout.  Luna hopped off the table and landed easily on the arm of the chair.  She reached out a paw, placing it against Brigid’s arm.  The princess flinched, and Luna sighed again.

 

“Oh, Brigid.  You’re the smartest girl I know, but you’re still so young.  You have so much to learn yet, dear one,” the cat said.  Brigid turned her eyes to the advisor, and Zoisite was surprised to see the sapphire depths were swimming with tears.  The princess reached up and hastily wiped them away, and Luna rubbed her head against her arm.  It was a surprisingly feline gesture for one of Luna’s status, in Zoisite’s mind.  “Give them a chance.  That is all we ask.”

 

“I will try,” Brigid finally said, and Luna smiled at her.

 

“You may actually come to like them,” she said, a sly edge to her voice.  “The Princess said the young one –”

 

“Likes books?” Brigid asked dryly, actually rolling her eyes at the suggestion.  Luna chuckled, and Brigid sank lower in the chair.  “I am sorry, Luna, but Serenity should know ‘you both like books’ is not a sufficient basis for a relationship.”

 

“But it is a start,” Luna said cheekily, and before Brigid could make another protest the cat hopped to the floor and began to walk away.  “If you’re feeling better later, Artemis and I could use your assistance in the lab.”

 

“I’ll stop by,” Brigid said.  Luna left her then, and Zoisite nearly cursed as she walked down the aisle he was hiding in.  He pressed himself against the shelves, knowing it would do no good and that he was caught either way, but Luna merely smiled at him and _winked_ – as if she had known he’d been there the entire time.  He mentally groaned and, giving a quick look to the titles beside him, plucked a book from the shelf.  Clearing his throat, he walked around the corner and over to the edge of the table before Brigid.  He leaned back and began flipping through the pages, refusing to meet her eyes.

 

“You know,” he finally said, glancing up at her, “it probably doesn’t mean much by this point, but I really do like books.”

 

She froze at that, her wide eyes blinking as she processed his words.  He was starting to grow nervous, thinking perhaps she was going to yell at him, when she choked on a laugh.  His eyes widened as she clapped a hand over her mouth, but then she was laughing again, the sound almost helpless as she wiped the remaining tears from her eyes.  He closed his book and held it against his side awkwardly, unsure of how to proceed.

 

“Do I want to know how much of that conversation you heard?” she finally asked, her voice sounding weary.  When she looked at him, he was surprised to find she was actually smiling.  He thought it was the first time he’d seen her do so, and he was unnerved to note that she actually had a rather lovely smile.

 

“Probably not, but if it makes you feel any better my intentions were not eavesdropping,” he said.  He put the book on the table and crossed his arms over his chest.  “I…I’m actually here to apologize.”

 

She seemed surprised at that.  He grabbed the closest chair and moved it so he could sit in front of her.

 

“I was…callous last night,” he said.  “My behavior was inexcusable, and I am sorry for how I acted and what I said.”

 

“In all fairness,” she said, and he was surprised to see she was still smiling at him.  She actually looked…kind.  “I haven’t exactly given you much cause to act cordially.”

 

“Then in all fairness,” he offered, “shouldn’t our stations demand we behave cordially regardless of personal feelings and circumstances?”

 

“…you have a point,” she said.  She looked to the open book in her lap, biting her lip as she mulled something over in her mind.  “You also had a point when you insisted I owed the Princess an apology.  As I owe you one as well, I think.”

 

He blinked, startled by her words, and after a moment he hung his head, shaking it as he chuckled.  He groaned half-heartedly and drug his hand down his face.  He said, “You are full of surprises, Princess…Sailor Mercury.”

 

She heaved a sigh, and he looked up to find she was setting her book against the arm of the chair.  She scooted forward, and when she placed her feet on the floor he was surprised to find he had sat close enough that their knees touched.  He was about to move away when she leaned forward.  Her posture was still defensive, but somehow she seemed more open than before.  When she glanced up at him, eyes the color of the deepest ocean staring at him from underneath thick lashes, he found his breath catching in his throat.

 

A voice that sounded very much like Nephrite bit out in a strangled voice in his mind: _…shit._

 

“I think…I believe we got off to a poor start,” she said.  She hesitated a moment before holding out her hand.  “I am Princess Brigid of Mercury, guardian Senshi to the Moon Princess Serenity.  I am one of the brightest minds in the galaxy, and because of that I’m told my interpersonal skills leave something to be desired, to put it mildly.  But…your Prince makes my Princess happy, as your fellow Shitennou make my sister Senshi happy, and for their sakes…I will try to work on that.”

 

He reached out and clasped her hand with his own.  He tried to ignore the tingle that shot up his arm when their skin touched – it was ridiculous.  He was ridiculous.  But…she was making an effort, so the least he could do was the same.

 

“Princess Brigid, it is a pleasure to finally meet you,” he said, flashing her his most charming smile.  He raised her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss against her knuckles.  When he looked back up at her, he was surprised to find she was blushing.  A bit pleased, too, if he was perfectly honest with himself.  More than a bit pleased.  Really, rather fantastically pleased, actually.

 

_…shite._

 

“Likewise,” she said, her voice enchanting.  “Lord…?”

 

“Zoisite!” he squeaked, and she looked amused at the octave his voice had leapt to reach.  Almost a prepubescent crack, embarrassingly enough.  He cleared his throat and nodded, praying his face wasn’t as red as it felt.  “I mean…I…um…I am Zoisite, King of the North and Shitennou to the Crown Prince Endymion of the Golden Kingdom of Terra.  I…uh…I like books.”

 

One day, when he finally managed to crawl out of the hole he was going to dig after this spectacular encounter, he was going to kill Endymion.  And Serenity.  (And Nephrite, if only because he knew the arse would provide no end of teasing when the story was relayed.)

 

But Brigid was actually laughing, a sound that was closer to a giggle than an actual laugh, and he found maybe it would be worth it to hear that sound again.  He also realized he was still holding her hand, though neither seemed eager to remedy the situation.  Her smile was warm as she said, “Me too.”


	22. Black Moon Rising

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Black Moon is here, and they have run out of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: “Black Moon Rising”  
> Fandom: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon  
> Prompt: 808 (Heartbroken)  
> Character/Pairing: Mizuno Ami, Zane Murphy/Zoisite; Zoisite x Ami  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen  
> Word Count: 1,733  
> Summary: The Black Moon is here, and they have run out of time.  
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.  
> Authors Notes: Crystal Tokyo/R. I was reading my copy of Yeats’s fairy tales the other night when I stumbled upon this lovely little poem by William Allingham called “Fairies”. The bold/italicized text is the fourth stanza. Also, if you’re so inclined to background music, I had Kate Rusby on loop while writing – specifically “Bitter Boy”.

**_they stole little Bridget for seven years long…_ **

Another explosion rocks the palace.

 

He stumbles, precious seconds lost as she continues to run away from him.

 

“Wait!” he cries, but there is no time.  The Black Moon is here, finally returned from their long sojourn in space to reap the vengeance they long ago promised.  The Black Moon is here, and they have run out of time.

 

“Wait!” he cries, screams, again.  He is closer, and he reaches out desperately.  Her wrist slips through his fingers, but it’s enough.  “Damn it, Ami!  Wait!”

 

He doesn’t care that there is no time.  He doesn’t care that the city is crumbling around them.  He doesn’t even care that their King is out there, likely about to receive the injury that will reduce him to nothing more than a hologram for however long this war will rage – or that their Queen is moments away from…

 

He only cares that she is running away from him.

 

“Zane, I have to,” she pleads.  His grip tightens on her wrist as his vision blurs.

 

Tears.

 

“I know,” he sighs.  Releases her.  She has her duty, as does he.  She grabs his face, kisses him fiercely.  It’s the last one he’ll get for some time.

 

“I’ll return to you,” she vows, and he knows she will.  She always does.

 

“Gráim thú,” he tells her.  His voice is thick, choked with the tears, and he hates it.  She smiles and doesn’t look as scared as he feels.

 

“Go síoraí,” she whispers, and then she is gone.

**_when she came down again…_ **

Stalemate.

 

An eruption of light, coming from the gates, and he knows it is done.  She is running with her sisters, back towards the chamber where they will activate the city’s shield.  He is running with his brothers, out towards the streets to salvage what – who – they can.

 

Opposite directions, yet again.

 

She’s still running away from him.

**_…her friends were all gone._ **

Neo-Queen Serenity is entombed in crystal, protected by her sisters in a desperate attempt to keep her from the enemy.

 

King Endymion is severely wounded, placed in stasis until his body can heal.  They had not reached him in time.  They had known they wouldn’t, yet they had still tried.

 

Small Lady is gone, disappeared to the past until the time she will return with Sailor Moon and the Senshi of Old Tokyo to win the war.

 

The guardian Senshi are trapped, chained to the crystal that will siphon their power to generate the shield that will protect the Palace and what remains of the city.

 

The Black Moon, or those who remain and have not ventured into the past themselves, have momentarily ceased their attacks and lurk in their base across town.

 

The city sleeps, what remains entombed as their Queen in crystal and ice until the time comes when the curse can be lifted and the war won.

 

They are all that remain, the four Shitennou left to guard what remains of their former paradise.

 

They are all that remain.

**_they took her lightly back, between the night and morrow…_ **

They take turns.  Shifts.

 

They are never in the same place for long.

 

But most often, Kunzite – ever the Leader – can be found standing guard over their King.

 

There is other work to be done, of course.  Patrols that must be run, demons that must be chased out, menial tasks that keep the palace in running order.

 

Some days find him out in the husk of the city, sweeping the streets for any threats that remain.  It’s always quiet.  The demons of the Black Moon are lurking in the safety of shadow, and the people sleeping within the crystal can’t talk back.

 

Others find him in the defense chamber with the Senshi.  Those are the harder days, when he must stand there and watch his unresponsive wife like this is all normal.  She’s awake, he knows, but retreated deep within herself to help maintain the shield.  She might as well be in a coma.

 

And then sometimes he stands guard over the Queen, encased in crystal like a living monument to their once-great city…

**_they thought that she was fast asleep…_ **

 

The Queen sleeps as her people sleep.  As her King sleeps.  As her Senshi sleep.

 

As her Shitennou cannot.

 

Locked within the crystal, she looks peaceful.

 

Outside of the crystal, he has nothing but his memories and is not.

**_…but she was dead with sorrow._ **

 

_“Black Moon?” Kassim asked, voicing the question the rest of them were thinking._

_“You remember those who resisted our reign,” King Endymion said, looking to each of his Shitennou in turn.  They nodded.  How could they ever forget?  Those years had been nearly as dark as the end of the Silver Millennium._

_“They were banished,” Joji said.  “When they refused to be purified, they were banished from the planet lest they bring more harm to our people.”_

_“Because you refused to kill them and begin the new world in blood,” Nate added.  Makoto shot him a warning look.  He had argued, back then, that letting the defectors live would be a mistake, but had ultimately agreed that the peaceful world they were hoping to establish could not be baptized in blood._

_“Nephrite,” Endymion said sharply, and he mumbled an apology.  The King sighed as he took his Queen’s hand.  “We were not completely honest with you at the time.”_

_They had been told, years ago, of Chibi-usa.  Though the future princess had returned to the future before the Shitennou had awoken, they had been told how she had returned to the past to receive training as a Senshi.  They had not been told, however, about the war that had led to her initial return._

_“Wait, wait, wait!” Joji cried, slamming his fists on the table.  “You mean to tell us that you knew a new enemy was coming and you didn’t think we deserved to know?”_

_“It’s not really a new enemy for us,” Rei said.  “We’ve already defeated the Black Moon.”_

_“But we haven’t!” Joji argued, making her roll her eyes._

_“Joji, peace,” Serenity said, smiling kindly at him.  “We had every intention of warning you before they arrived.  I’ll admit that part of it was my fault.  I did not want to disturb everyone’s happiness just yet, but we cannot wait much longer.  They will return shortly, and while we have the advantage in knowing what will happen we must still be ready.”_

_“What must we do, my Queen?” Zane asked, voice tense.  Ami’s hand rested on his own, but the touch suddenly felt foreign.  He found no solace in the usually comforting gesture._

**_they have kept her ever since, deep within the lake…_ **

_Pluto had warned them time and again that no one should ever know too much about their future.  Thanks to the Black Moon, the rulers of Crystal Tokyo had broken that rule._

_Those who had been banished at the start of Crystal Tokyo had met a demon in space, and thanks to his influence had grown stronger.  They would return to seek revenge on the world that had cast them aside.  A war would rage – they didn’t know for how long, but there would be casualties.  The King would be injured.  The Princess would travel to the past, seeking help from Sailor Moon.  The Queen would be encased in crystal after a failed attack from the Prince of the Black Moon.  The Senshi would devote their energies to protecting the city._

_They hadn’t known, back then, what the Shitennou would do.  They hadn’t realized the men were still alive, and considering the Senshi of the past were all just coming from the battles with the Dark Kingdom they supposed their future selves had decided to keep that information from them._

_He had been furious when he left the meeting.  War council.  Ambush._

_Nephrite had stormed out first, but he had remained in his chair until the room had cleared.  When no one but Ami remained, he stood and walked away with calm, measured steps – but she knew him.  Knew that, inside, he was a powder keg._

_She had followed him back to their rooms, where he roughly grabbed her and pressed her to the wall, kissing her with every bit of pent up emotion ricocheting inside him._

_“I will not lose you,” he bit out fiercely, and she let him rage.  She was calm, soothing, as she reached up and held his face._

_“You won’t,” she promised, because she could.  She had lived through one side of this war already, and she knew how it would end.  She had the surety of experience, and it allowed her to make such callous promises easily.  It seemed hasty to him, who only knew of the war to come and the ones he could lose.  Irresponsible.  “We will win, Zane.  It won’t be forever.”_

_He kissed her again, slower but just as demanding.  She welcomed him, always so giving as he did nothing but take and take and take.  He would drown in her if he could, in this moment – anything to escape the demons that still plagued his mind of the last war.  The last time they had been ripped apart, and how long it had taken them to find each other again…_

_“I will not lose you,” he swore again, breathless.  Her breath hitched as he moved against her, and her face was flushed as she lifted her head from the wall.  She disentangled an arm from around him to once more rest her palm against his cheek.  Her eyes were steady as she watched him._

_“You won’t.”_

**_on a bed of flag-leaves…_ **

He sits in the doorway, hunched forward and fingers steepled together above his knees.  He watches the unmoving Queen in her unmoving crystal because all he can do is watch.  He waits for Small Lady to return because this is a war he cannot win.  He waits for the Queen to wake, for the city to be safe, for the Senshi to leave their post…

 

The thousand-year slumber, sequestered away as the world slept beneath the ice, had been better than this.  At least they had all been together then.

 

But for now, he – they – are alone.  Together, but separated by duty and the damned Black Moon until Sailor Moon appears.

 

So he watches.

 

And he waits.

**_…watching till she wake._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The full poem can be read here: www.bartleby.com/101/769.html


	23. Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Whoever the heck this is, it better be very important for waking me up from such a spectacular dream at this hour,” Zane bit out as he grabbed the phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: “Dreams”  
> Fandom: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon  
> Prompt: 307 (Scarred)  
> Character/Pairing: Mizuno Ami, Zane Murphy/Zoisite; Zoisite x Ami  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen  
> Word Count: 1,223  
> Summary: “Whoever the heck this is, it better be very important for waking me up from such a spectacular dream at this hour,” Zane bit out as he grabbed the phone.  
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.  
> Authors Notes: College-aged/pre-Crystal Tokyo. Angsty but not really TBW? There was a line that wouldn’t leave me alone, and the rest of it kinda formed around that.

Zane found himself somewhat proud of his ringtone.  It was just the perfect blend of mildly catchy and aggravatingly obnoxious which promised to amuse those who mattered, annoy the rest, and insure he never missed a call.  It was like using the _Halloween_ theme as your ringer during October and watching people freak out – or enjoying the reactions you’d get when the TARDIS engines were your text alert.  He was rather proud of his mobile.

 

Except when it was three thirty in the fecking morning and the damned thing wouldn’t shut up.

 

“Whoever the hell this is, it better be damned important for waking me up from such a spectacular dream at this hour,” he bit out as he grabbed the phone – which had actually gone through the call cycle twice now – and pressed it to his ear.  He only recognized the sniffling sound of muffled tears after the startled gasp stalled them, and he hesitantly checked the caller.  Ami.

 

Shite.

 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice immediately softer.  She didn’t answer, but he could hear her trying to control her breathing on the other side.  “Tell me, a stór.”

 

“I’m sorry,” she finally said.  He felt a pang or twenty in his heart, like a knife being slowly turned at the sound of her voice.  She sounded so fragile, so utterly _broken_ …he sat up in bed, suddenly wide awake.  “It was…I was stupid.  I shouldn’t have…didn’t mean to wake you…”

 

“Stop,” he said, wincing as the word came out harsher than he had intended.  He drug a hand down his face.  “Ami.  It’s fine – you know it’s fine.  What’s wrong?”

 

“I just…” she mumbled, and he waited as she took a few more steadying breaths.

 

“Do you need me to come over?” he asked gently.  When she didn’t answer, he tossed his blankets off and flipped on a light.  “I’m coming over.  Just lemme find my trousers and –”

 

“No!” she called, making him pause with one leg in his jeans.  “You don’t…I’m sorry.  It’s so stupid – I never should have call-”

 

“Yeah, you should’ve,” he said firmly.  “What’s going on?  Please, Ami.  Talk to me.”

 

“I just…I just needed to hear your voice,” she whispered.  She was so quiet, her breath hitching on the words.  Like she was ashamed of them.  Like he was pulling them from her, slowly and painfully.  He sat back down on his bed, his chest tightening again.  “I woke up, and I was so sure…I needed to hear your voice.  I had to hear you and know…”

 

“I’m coming over,” he said again, once more reaching for his jeans as she shouted at him.

 

“Zane, no!” she nearly sobbed.  She groaned, and he paused as he heard her moving on the other end.  “I told you it was stupid.  Don’t…I woke you up.  I’m so sorry.”

 

“And I told you it was fine,” he said.  He almost smiled when he heard a broken laugh come from her.

 

“You said I better have a ‘damned important reason’ for waking you up from a ‘spectacular dream’,” she said.  She hesitated a moment, and he heard rustling fabric.  He could just imagine her in his mind, curled up in that faded blue duvet he’d been begging her to replace for ages now.  “What…what were you dreaming about?”

 

He chuckled as he kicked his trousers off again, smiling slightly as he laid back down.  He shoved a hand through his hair and said, “You, actually.  And you can ignore what I said.  I don’t mind waking up from a dream you to talk to the real you.  Sure you don’t want me to come?”

 

“It’s…is it really three thirty?  I’m so sorry,” she sighed again.  At least she sounded like the crying had stopped.

 

“Doesn’t matter,” he chided.  “It’s you.  You should know by now I’d be there in a heartbeat if you needed.”

 

She grew quiet again, and he pinched the bridge of his nose.  They were doing better, but most days she was still skittish at best around him.  The others assured him it was just how she was, but times like this…he knew something was wrong.  He wanted nothing more than to go to her, to hold her until they both fell asleep and she knew everything would be ok.  He didn’t want her calling him at three in the morning when she should just have to roll over and find herself already in his arms.

 

But this was the pace she had set, and he had no choice but to follow along.  It was better than the alternative, at any rate.

 

“I had a bad dream,” she finally said.  His fist tightened in his hair, pulling uncomfortably as he took a steadying breath.  “A…memory, actually.  Of the last night on the Moon.”

 

“Ami…” he breathed.  Her laughter sounded watery again.

 

“It’s silly, I told you,” she said.  “I know it’s over and done, and I know you’re…but I woke up, and my hands…I could still smell the smoke.  My ears were ringing with…it’s so silly.”

 

“It’s not, a stór,” he tried to reassure her.  Because it wasn’t.  It was a curse, in his mind, that the first memories any of them regained of the Silver Millennium were of its fall.  The rest was coming back, slowly but surely, but nothing was as clear as that bloody night.  Even through the fog of Metalia’s darkness, those last moments haunted the rougher nights.  If anything was silly, it was his hope that he and his brothers were the only ones plagued by such nightmares.  That the girls had been spared such horrors, even though he knew full well they hadn’t.

 

“I just needed to hear your voice,” she said again, and he smiled despite himself.  “I know you’re alive.  I know you’re safe in your bed.  I know you’re not…but I had to hear your voice.  Just to…just to be sure.”

 

“I can still come over,” he offered, and though she couldn’t see it he waggled his eyebrows suggestively.  “Be safe in your bed.  Make sure you know how alive I am.”

 

“You’re horrible,” she laughed, and he grinned.

 

“That’s not a no,” he pointed out.  He preferred the laughing over the barely-suppressed tears that had begun the call.  “Come on.  I can teleport there in barely a blink.  I don’t even have to find my trousers.”

 

“Zane…” she groaned, and he chuckled again.

 

“Relax, Ami,” he said with a smile.  “I’ll stay put.  But, y’know, someday…”

 

“Someday,” she agreed, and the word sounded like a promise.  He listened to her breathing, the sound lulling him back to the realm of sleep.  His eyes had started to droop when she spoke again.  “Thank you, Zane.”

 

“Any time, a stór,” he murmured.

 

“I should hang up now,” she said, and he hummed.

 

“Kinda like falling asleep with you,” he said, and when he heard her breath hitch again he winced.  “Listening to you, I mean.  Jesus, I’m knackered.  But you ok now?”

 

“Yes,” she said.  “Go back to sleep, Zane.  I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

 

“Tomorrow,” he promised, his voice slurring slightly.  “Love you.”

 

Tomorrow, he’d remember saying it and pray it was just a continuation of that spectacular dream.  Tomorrow, he wouldn’t remember her gasp or the quiet whisper before the phone slipped down his pillow: “…you, too.”


	24. The Cool Aunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ami becomes preoccupied by a nagging question: was she a cool aunt?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: “The Cool Aunt”  
> Fandom: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon  
> Prompt: 201 (Tidings)  
> Character/Pairing: Mizuno Ami, Zoisite; Zoisite x Ami  
> Rating: K+ / PG / All Ages  
> Word Count: 2,476  
> Summary: Ami becomes preoccupied by a nagging question: was she a cool aunt?  
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.  
> Authors Notes: Crystal Tokyo. This started kinda serious and heavy, but then it just dissolved into whatever the hell this is. xD
> 
> Also, just a quick addendum to the note that has nothing to do with the fic and more with my disappearance so really skip this if you just want the fic and don’t care believe me I understand I just wanted to say…guys, I’m so sorry I dropped off the face of the earth with these. August is never a good month schedule-wise, primarily because I’m so wrapped up with VBS. On top of that, I was also in the middle of a month-long interview process for a baker job at a local university’s dining hall. I landed the job (and really it’s such a great job), though I missed baker by just a smidge and was hired as the position under baker with the intent that I’d eventually be moved up to baker. Though since being hired, I’ve been really impressing them – so last week I ended up testing for baker again, but I’m still waiting to find out if I actually landed the gig? (Honestly it could have gone either way, and since the test, the exec chef making the decision was off for a few days, I got bumped to “Baker For A Day” when the other baker got sick, we got slammed with prep for a theme meal, my car’s alternator died, and a pipe at home burst leading to a good chunk of my mum’s bedroom floor caving in? I can’t even, guys. I’m telling y’all.) All this has meant a pretty hectic time of things, and lately my days off have been wrapped up in errands then back to work – so by the time I see my computer I just kinda grumble at it, feel guilty for not posting anything, then say I’ll do it later. I haven’t even been writing, and if I didn’t love my job so much I’d hate myself more for that. I promised myself I was going to post today, though, then fixing my car meant tonight, and gosh darn it I’m going to get this uploaded before midnight. xD And…I’m so sorry, but a lot of the ones I have finished (like six or seven) are kinda sad, so as further apology I’m giving y’all the fluffier one first.
> 
> Which is all to say I’m sorry for the lack of updates, but life. Sorry. Life. LIFE? Meh – y’all rock, and thanks so much for reading, even when I’m a crappy poster.

“Do you think I’m a cool aunt?”

 

Zane looked up from Usagi, his eyebrows soaring at his wife’s question.  She sat across from him on an ottoman, watching as he played with the young princess on the floor of the salon.  Her eyebrows were furrowed, her entire face puckered in a look of intense concentration – or distress.  Usagi whined at his lack of attention, and he chuckled as he picked her up again and hoisted her a few inches off the ground.  Her tiny legs kicked, and she squealed in delight.

 

“Don’t be daft,” he told Ami.  He smacked his lips against the princess’s forehead, directly against the crescent-shaped birthmark, and earned another giggle for his efforts.  “You’re a great aunt.”

 

“Yes, but am I a _cool_ aunt?” she pressed.  He sighed and handed Usagi a stuffed rabbit, which she immediately placed in her mouth.

 

“Since when,” he asked, leaning back on his arms and giving her a stern look, “have you ever been concerned with being _cool_?”

 

“Since I married the cool uncle,” she said flippantly, and his eyebrows soared again.  He almost snorted, choking on the laugh at her reasoning.  She looked annoyed at that.  “What?  It’s true.  You’re the cool uncle, Zane.  That leaves a lot to live up to.”

 

“That’s…insane,” he said, but she shook her head.

 

“Zane, I’m serious!” she whined – actually _whined_ , and wasn’t that odd enough.  She looked back to Usagi, her lower lip stuck out in a pout.  “When she came to us in the past, she was older.  I didn’t have to worry about being the cool aunt.  I could help her with her homework, which Serenity was never good at, and that was fine.”

 

“So what’s changed?” he asked.  He scooted around Usagi and leaned against the ottoman beside Ami, tipping his head back to smile up at her.

 

“Well, she’s a baby, for one,” she huffed.  “You can’t exactly help with homework when they don’t have any.”

 

“She’ll grow up,” he pointed out, but she shook her head.

 

“It’s just…I guess, back then, we all balanced each other out?  I could help with the homework, and Makoto always had fresh-baked cookies whenever she needed them.  Minako knew all about _retail therapy_ , and Rei was…well, _Rei_ ,” she sighed.  He snorted at that, and she smiled a bit at his knowing look.  “And Serenity filled in as the playmate, so…where do I fit in now?”  She sighed again, and he reached up and squeezed her knee, smiling at her.

 

“You’re one of her aunts, which automatically makes you cool, and she’ll love you for it regardless,” he said.  He grinned as Usagi waddled over to them and crashed into Ami’s legs.  The princess squealed as she raised her slobbery bunny for Ami to inspect.  Ami laughed softly as she picked her up and sat her on her lap, and Usagi immediately snuggled into her.  “See?  She’s mad for you.”

 

“She likes you more,” Ami sighed, running a hand through one of her pink pigtails – which was falling out of its tie, but Usagi didn’t seem to notice or care.  Her eyes were drooping, and her thumb had found its way to her mouth.  “You’re the cool uncle.”

 

“Exactly,” he said, somewhat smugly.  “And don’t you think I would’ve married the cool aunt?”

 

“I’m not –” she started, but he pushed himself up and cut her off with a kiss.  She glared weakly at him, but he was still smiling.

 

“You’re plenty cool,” he said, kissing her nose before he sat down again.  She kept her eyes on the dozing princess, and though she still looked too troubled for his comfort she let the matter drop.  So, as he scooped Usagi up and carried her over to her pack and play for a well-deserved nap, he did, too.

 

– V –

 

Which, ultimately, proved to be a mistake.  He learned this a few days later when Serenity pulled him aside – and by _pulled him aside_ he actually meant _grabbed his arm when he was walking past and nearly shoved him out a window_.

 

“Hey!” he cried, mostly from the shock of the sudden window at his back but also in offense at the way the Queen was violently poking his chest.  He batted her hand away and gave her a rather intimidating Look, but if she noticed she didn’t seem impressed.

 

“All right, Murphy, what the heck did you do?” she bit out.  It didn’t help his confusion at all.  If anything, it only brought to mind a time Endymion had told them of a particularly nasty fight the couple had had during her pregnancy.  He had compared the Queen to a golden cyclone in her fury, and Zane was starting to understand his point.

 

“Sorry?” he asked.  Serenity crossed her arms over her chest, leaned back, and dipped her head.  He was sure it was meant to be intimidating, but he had known the Queen too long and had seen her in too many compromising situations to find her very threatening.  (That being said, he had also seen the petite woman in enough battles to know that, if he were a wiser man, he should find her _very_ threatening.)

 

“What did you do?” she asked again, enunciating each word.  When he continued to stare at her, she rolled her eyes and waved her hands in the air.  “Ami!  What did you do?”

 

“I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about, highness,” he said, and she groaned.  “If you care to illuminate the situation, I may be able to offer a more satisfactory answer…?”

 

“I wanted to take Usagi into the city, and I asked Ami to come with me,” she said, and he nodded.  He had known that much.  “We were having a perfectly splendid time, and then all of a sudden Ami starts asking me if I thought she was a _good aunt_.  A good aunt, Zane!  Where on earth did she get that idea?  She knows she’s a great aunt!”

 

“Oh.  Is she still on that?” he asked, and when her eyes grew large he held up his hands to stave off her ire.  “No, no, no – you misunderstand!  She had asked me the other day if I thought she was a cool aunt.  I promise you, Serenity, I told her she was perfect.”

 

“Well, clearly it didn’t stick,” the Queen huffed, “because the next thing I knew, she was asking me if I thought she’d be a good mother!”

 

“…what?”

 

“Exactly what I said!” the Queen continued.  He felt his face scrunching in confusion – enough that his forehead hurt from the pinching.  What in the world was his wife on about now?  “So, clearly, it has to be your fault!”

 

“Wait, what?!” he squawked, offended by the implication.  Serenity rolled her eyes and again crossed her arms over her chest.

 

“Well, clearly it’s because you don’t want a baby!” she cried.

 

“Now hold on – I never said I didn’t want a baby!” he shot back.  He paused as a debilitating thought crossed his mind, one that made him lose all of his bluster.  “…she didn’t say that, did she?  She doesn’t think I don’t want kids, does she?”

 

“No, of course she didn’t _say_ it, but why else would she be questioning her ability as a mother unless you were questioning it because you aren’t getting her pregnant?” the Queen huffed, and her rant was enough to make him wonder if _she_ was pregnant again.

 

“Well, it’s not for lack of trying!” he whined – and he was disgusted to realize that he was the one whining now.  Serenity didn’t look convinced.  “What, do you need proof?!”

 

“No!” she snapped, grimacing at the thought.  “I just…Zane, Ami’s going to be a _fantastic_ mom.  All of my girls are.  And I’m upset that she’s doubting herself like this, and I want to know _why_ , and are you _sure_ you didn’t say something she maybe misunderstood?”

 

“Of course I didn’t!  She would have told me if I did!  I…Serenity, I have no idea what’s going on,” he sighed.  The Queen no longer looked irritated at him, but a look of concern that had her worrying her lip had replaced the ire.  “Did she say anything else?  Did she give you any inclination on what got her started on this?”

 

“No,” she sighed.  Her eyes slid back to him, and she gave him a rather suspicious glare.  “Are you _sure_ you didn’t give her any reason to think you think she’s going to be a bad mom and so are purposefully avoiding getting her pregnant?”

 

He screamed.  He actually screamed.  It was a strangled, groaning sort of scream, but it was still a scream.  Serenity jumped back, startled, and he used the opportunity to escape her impromptu interrogation.  He began stalking down the hall, towards the rooms he shared with Ami, and when she called after him, demanding to know where he thought he was going, he shouted back in a rather perturbed voice, “To go make a baby!”

 

– V –

 

Which is how he found himself kicking in the door to their rooms, causing Ami to jump nearly a foot in the air.  She was gasping, a hand on her heart, as she asked him what was wrong – but he just grabbed her hand, began dragging her to their bed, and said, “Come on, you – we’re making a baby!”

 

“What?!” she screeched, digging in her heels and pushing against his back to get him to release her.  Instead, he spun around and pulled her close, dipping her back as he attempted to kiss her senseless.  It was all rather ruined by the way she was laughing into his mouth.

 

“Ami!” he whined, not even caring this time.  He was frustrated – beyond frustrated – and he was going to whine as much as he damn well liked.  “Come on – I’m trying to make a baby here!”

 

“But _why?_ ” she laughed, pushing him back slightly.  “Zane, what’s gotten into you?  What’s brought this on?”

 

“You!” he cried, his voice still whining.  When her eyebrows soared at that, he dropped his eyes and shrugged.  He began fidgeting, refusing to look at her until she danced her fingers along the collar of his shirt.  He raised a brow at her and threw in his best pout, the one he knew she could never deny.  “Don’t you want to?”

 

“Make a baby?” she asked, and when he nodded she laughed again.  “Of course.  That is, I would love to, but as we’ve already made one it might be somewhat difficult this time?”

 

“Ok!  Good!  Then why on earth does Serenity seem to think you think I don’t want a baby?” he cried.  He had tuned her out shortly after her affirmation and hadn’t quite caught that last thing she had said, but he was sure it wasn’t that important.  What was important was figuring out why she was questioning her mothering skills.  Or why Serenity seemed to think she was, at least.

 

“Wait, what?” she asked, frowning, and he released her to throw his arms in the air.

 

“Exactly!  Mo chara, what’s going on?  First you’re asking me if I think you’re a cool aunt, then you’re asking Serenity if she thinks you’ll be a good mam, and now Serenity thinks you think I don’t want kids!  I want kids – I love kids!  You know I love kids!  So come on – let’s make a baby and show Serenity how much we want kids!” he ranted, and he was well aware of the fact that he was ranting by this point.  Which was ridiculous, because he wasn’t quite sure why he was so upset by all this.  Nate would make some quip about how it had him second-guessing his manhood, and Kassim would definitely validate the opinion of slighted male pride.  Joji would just tell him to stop making so much noise.  He refused to consider Endymion’s opinion, as he knew full well his King would be on the floor in stitches by all this.  Still, he had stopped caring by this point. Apparently the opinion that he didn’t want a baby was going around, and he was determined to prove otherwise.

 

“Zane, love, calm down,” Ami laughed, placing her hands on either side of his face.  She smiled calmly at him before leaning in for a kiss.  It was slow, and tender, and did wonders at making him forget why he had been so upset in the first place.  “Now what exactly happened?”

 

So he told her how Serenity had cornered him and of the concerns she had raised.  He told her he was concerned because she still didn’t seem to think she was a cool aunt, and he was worried because now it seemed she didn’t think she’d be a cool mother, either.  And how Serenity had seemed to think one of them either didn’t want kids or thought the other didn’t, so he had immediately sought her out to…make kids.  And bless her, because she was trying so hard not to laugh, and as he explained everything he found he wanted to laugh, too.  The whole mess was absolutely absurd, and even after just relating it he still wasn’t entirely sure how it had all come about.

 

“I’m sorry,” she said after he’d finished.  “I was…a little concerned, I’ll admit, for a few days.  But did you hear why?”

 

“Well, that’s just it, isn’t it?  You haven’t told me why,” he said.  She chuckled and squeezed his hand.

 

“Think back,” she said, smiling slightly.  “A few minutes ago, when you asked me if I wanted to make a baby?”  He continued to stare at her, blinking owlishly as he raked his memory.  There had been that other bit, the part he had tuned out because she had said she wanted a baby but they’d already made one so…

 

…oh.

 

“Baby?” he asked.  Well, _asked_ was a bit generous.  He definitely squeaked the word out.  But despite the squeaking, she smiled kindly at him and nodded.  “ _Baby?_ ”

 

“Yes,” she said with a laugh.  “I found out a couple days ago.  That’s why…I got a little scared.  I’m sorry.  I should have told you sooner, but –”

 

“Baby!” he whooped, cutting her off with a fierce kiss.  She was ruining it again – making it better, really – by laughing, but he was laughing, too, so he supposed that was all right.

 

And he had more questions, of course, and more platitudes – and really he should just stay there and see if maybe they could make two babies at once.  But he was pulling away from her, a wicked gleam in his eye, and she watched in baffled amazement as he proceeded to run out the door.

 

“Oi, Serenity!” he hollered as he raced down the hall in search of the Queen.  “We made a baby!”


	25. Just One Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Just one day,” he’d say. She knew there would come a time she’d regret listening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: “Just One Day”  
> Fandom: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon  
> Prompt: 1104 (Hold Your Breath)  
> Character/Pairing: Brigid/Mizuno Ami, Zoisite; Zoisite x Ami  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen  
> Word Count: 1,433  
> Summary: “Just one day,” he’d say. She knew there would come a time she’d regret listening.  
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.  
> Authors Notes: Silver Millennium. vbabe1 has this Z/A pic on dA titled “To Protect Important People”, and I’m like 99% sure that – when she said what I used as the epitaph in the description – she was referring to her own life and not waxing poetic like I made it. But given the context of the picture, and how it all sounded, there was just…fic happens, ok?

_“It’s amazing what I can do in one day by forgoing all important things._

_…I’ll regret it.  I know.”_

_Vbabe1.deviantart.com_

 

The pile of charts on her desk isn’t getting any smaller.

 

And people are starting to talk.

 

But, in a twist from the usual events, he’s snuck away just for her…and he can be rather persuasive when he tries.

 

His lips are against her neck as his fingers thread through her own, making her drop her pen as he tugs them away from her paperwork.

 

_“Pay attention to me,”_ he entreats without having to say the words.  _“I came all this way.  Just for you.”_

 

She could accomplish so much if she just stayed and did her work.  Focused on the important things that needed focusing on.  She’ll regret it later, she knows, when she’s scrambling to meet her deadlines and Luna is looking for the report she hasn’t gotten to yet and Artemis has broken the console _yet again_ and…

 

But in that moment, he is intoxicating, and she thinks he can be considered an important thing, too.

 

– V –

 

Before him, she had never played hooky.

 

She was the studious one.  The serious one.  Committed and dedicated to her work.  The concept of ‘playing hooky’ was alien to her, just as the term ‘mental health day’ could not be found in her lexicon.  People depended on her, and she could not let them down.  It was her duty.  Her responsibility.

 

He is her weakness.

 

“You’re getting as bad as Serenity,” she chides when he enters her study.  He is on his knees beside her, worming his way between her and the desk in order to rest his head on her lap.  His arms entwine around her middle, and he sighs when a hand drops to tangle in his curls.

 

“You don’t come with her anymore,” he nearly whines.  Her lips quirk at the petulance in his voice, though her breath catches in her throat as he nuzzles against her.  “I’m beginning to experience withdraw.”

 

“You can’t withdraw from a person,” she says matter-of-factly.  He pushes her chair back and stands, just enough to be level with her head so he can quickly peck at her lips.

 

“Can’t you?” he asks.  She sighs against his lips as he kisses her again.  “Just one day, mo chara.  Endymion’s had these fountains installed in the north gardens, and I’ve been dying to show you.”

 

“My work…” she protests, but they both know it’s half-hearted at best.  Somehow she’s never been able to say no to him.

 

“Will still be here tomorrow,” he coos.  “Come with me.  Please.”

 

She still has so much to finish, but somehow…she’s never been able to say no to him.

 

– V –

 

He fills her life with firsts.

 

He is the first time another person honestly perplexes her.  When they first meet, she is certain he is nothing but a common soldier.  Perhaps slightly more skilled, as he is introduced as one of Prince Endymion’s personal guards, but a soldier nonetheless.  She’s had enough experiences with soldiers to know he won’t surprise her.  Until he does.

 

He is her first fight.  She is level-headed, cool, calm, collected…and he can frustrate her so dizzyingly that she forgets herself entirely.  She’s never shouted at someone so violently before, and he has the nerve to just _laugh_ at her with unbridled joy – and it only incenses her more.

 

He’s her first kiss.  She stops yelling long enough to demand just what is so funny, and before she can prepare herself or deflect his advances he’s holding her face and kissing her soundly.  Her face feels as hot as Fuchi’s flames when he pulls back.

 

“I’m sorry.  Truly I am,” he laughs, still smiling at her, “but do you realize how bright your eyes get when you yell like that?  You’re gorgeous.”

 

It’s also the first time anyone has told her that.  Beautiful, sure – given her station, given who she is, it’s almost expected that she be considered beautiful.  But gorgeous?  And said so earnestly, by someone who has nothing to gain from the compliment?

 

“You’re a puzzle, Brigid,” he sighs before he kisses her again.  She thinks she can understand why Hathor is always chasing after the palace guards now.  “I’m sorry.  I just wanted you to loosen up.  I am enthralled by you, and I would love for you to drop the niceties so I can actually get to know you.”

 

He is the first time she thinks, just maybe, life could have meaning beyond serving her Princess.  And that terrifies her.

 

– V –

 

She has too much work to finish when Serenity approaches her that evening.  There are at least two more reports to edit to send off in the morning, and she still hasn’t gotten to reviewing the experiment results Luna had asked her for the other day.  But Serenity is nothing if not determined, and the thought of seeing the Northern King again is more appealing than those reports.  Serenity doesn’t have to really try before she’s joining her on the planet below.

 

There’s a little voice in the back of her mind bemoaning the sleep she’ll lose because of those unfinished reports.

 

The way his eyes light up when she steps into the moonlight is worth it, though.

 

– V –

 

And it goes on, for months.  Somehow it all balances out, and her sisters find no end of amusement in how flustered the usually stoic princess has become.

 

She has responsibilities.  Obligations.  Duties.

 

He has her heart.

 

And, as it goes, she has his – and it’s enough that, when Queen Serenity and Luna spy them dancing together at Serenity’s birthday ball, they only smile and forgive the occasional missed deadline.

 

Because she’s found love, and they are keen to see her so happy.

 

– V –

 

“Just one day, mo chara,” he coos in her ear, and it’s always one day.  Just one day, he’d say, and she could never say no.

 

Except this time she must.  This time, matters are too pressing – too important – to dismiss for later.  No matter how enticing he is.

 

“Zoisite, no,” she says, shrugging away from him as she tries to study the screens before her.  They cannot wait.  He can.  He must.

 

“Please,” he whispers, his lips dancing along the shell of her ear.  She shivers, and his lips curl in a grin.  He is certain he is wearing her down.  “Just a few hours.  I must return tonight, and I cannot say when I will be able to come back.  Give me the afternoon, a stór.”

 

It’s a dirty trick, and they both know it.  As is the look he gives her when she turns her head, his green eyes beseeching and teasing all at once.  That playful look is always her undoing.

 

“Which is exactly why I can’t, love,” she sighs.  “Endymion needs these reports for your mission.  If your party went out unprepared and something happened, I would never forgive myself.”

 

“You’re just going over them to make sure we didn’t miss anything,” he says.  “We are as prepared as we can be, Brigid.  They have already been reviewed.  Beryl is a trusted advisor of the King – I have faith she would not lead us astray.  I will leave for the far North in the morning, and I will return…not soon enough, which is why you should spend your afternoon with me.  I will miss you, a stór.”

 

She’ll regret it, she knows – she usually does – but still she gives him those hours.  She spends her afternoon getting lost in him, and it’s too soon when he must slip away with one last kiss and a promise to return.  Her work is still there waiting for her when she goes back to her study, her skin still flushed from his ardent attentions.

 

– V –

 

There is one line in the report, barely a blip hidden amidst the technical jargon and numbers and figures reporting the status of things in Terra’s far North.  Slightly elevated levels in the dark energy readings they had been monitoring, which had remained constant for over a year as the Shadow slept.

 

She would have seen it, had she not been so thoroughly distracted.

 

_“Just one day,” he had begged,_ she thinks bitterly as Prince Endymion hands her the missive Zoisite’s scouting party had barely managed to get out before…

 

She can’t stand the tears in Serenity’s eyes as her Princess watches her.  She hates the wary way Endymion regards her, as if he knows…

 

_Just one day._   A few hours.

 

She had known she would regret it.

 

She usually does.                                                                                          


	26. Ami's Second Holiday, or The Man in a Skirt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the memories start coming back, Ami returns to the castle the boy in a skirt once showed her to find there’s more than just his ghost story haunting the land.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: “Ami’s Second Holiday” or “The Man in a Skirt”  
> Fandom: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon  
> Prompt: 401 (Blood)  
> Character/Pairing: Mizuno Ami, Zane Murphy/Zoisite; Zoisite x Ami  
> Rating: M / PG-16 / Teen  
> Word Count: 12,848  
> Summary: When the memories start coming back, Ami returns to the castle the boy in a skirt once showed her to find there’s more than just his ghost story haunting the land.  
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.  
> Authors Notes: College-age/pre-Crystal Tokyo. Rating for the nature of what Zane is hunting at the castle – sorry, no heated smoochies here. Continuation of Ch8 (“Ami’s Holiday”). When I was first working with that story, I had always intended to wrap it up with Ami going back to the castle as an adult and playing out a reunion scenario there. At the time I just couldn’t get it to work, but after writing “Precautions” and spending entirely too much time in one of my faerie books this idea wiggled its way in and…well. I don’t think I did the little bastards justice, but I tried. It also really, really got away from me. (Flogging Molly’s “Devil’s Dance Floor” for the showdown, if you’re so inclined.)
> 
> Also, since this missed the Halloween posting I was aiming for and we’re smack-dab in the middle of turkeys instead: happy Thanksgiving, for the States-side readers who celebrate. Wishing y’all safety on your travels and good times with your families.

_“Redcap.  They’ll keep their distance, but don’t you go scrutinizin’ ‘em or looking for trouble, ‘cos you’ll find it with those buggers.” – Neil Gaiman, Stardust_

__

The castle hadn’t changed much in the decade or so it had taken her to get back there, but Ami supposed that was the benefit of being ageless: it took much longer than eleven measly years to really change you.  It still had that air of magic about it, but she was more inclined to believe that had more to do with her memories painting it as such than actual magic.

 

When she was a girl, her father had taken her here on holiday.  He had promised to take her to see a castle, but much as she loved him her father was ultimately a man of broken promises.  He had spent the entire trip working on a seascape, and she had spent a good deal of the time reading on the hill beside him.  The day before they were to leave, she had met a boy in a skirt, and he had taken her to see this castle.  He had told her a ghost story, and at the time she had been so wrapped up in the excitement of the trip and the feeling of familiarity she had almost believed him.

 

She had known the castle and the tale he had spun her, but back then she hadn’t known why or even how she possibly could have.  Now, years later, she did.  She reached out and placed her hand on the stone wall that crumbled around the perimeter.  She remembered standing here a lifetime ago with a proud king by her side, though at the time he had been less a picture of pride and more a bundle of nervous energy.  He had so wanted her to love the castle, the land and people, as much as he did.  He had so wanted her to stay.

 

She closed her eyes and took a deep, steadying breath.  She had come here for a reason.

 

Eleven years ago, the boy’s mother had been furious that he had taken her to these ruins.  It was too dangerous, she had claimed, to be gallivanting over the crumbling stairs and spotty floors.  As a child, Ami hadn’t given a second thought to the danger in light of the adventure and excitement of exploring a castle.  She was more cautious now, her slow steps feeling for loose stones and pitfalls as she made her way up to the old wall-walk.  In the dustier corners of her mind, the ones that had grown clearer over the past few weeks, she could see the halls as they once were: strong and regal, covered in tapestries that told the vast history of the land the castle oversaw.  A door the color of midnight had once guarded the room to her left, and she remembered one of his younger sisters would stay there during her visits (he had four, she thought, though she had only ever met the one).  There was a library deeper in, but she recalled on the colder nights she would perch in one of the seaward windows and read by moonlight.  The moon had always shone brightest on those cold winter nights, and the part of her that was growing homesick cherished those moments, even as she was building a new home in those very walls.

 

She minded the last step before the walk, as he had instructed her to all those years ago, and she wondered at the way her heart panged inside her.  The castle had been old the first time he brought her there, but to see it in such disrepair…

 

The cool air on her face was a welcome distraction.  She looked out across the sea, to the waves churning below, and wondered what had happened to the boy in the skirt after that day.  She knew part of his story from where it intersected her own, but she wondered how the witch had found him a second time.  Mamoru had once said his men had found each other before Beryl had found them.  She was comforted by that thought, at least.  It was too easy to imagine the young boy in these ruins, hiding as his ghost – the witch – turned against him.

 

_“Besides, I don’t think she’s a_ mean _ghost.  Just…sad.”_

 

The witch had specialized in that, turning what you cherished most against you.  If the ‘ghost’ of this castle was his memories bleeding through, as she now believed it was, it would have been all too easy for Beryl to manipulate him with –

 

“You shouldn’t be up here, miss!”

 

She jumped at the voice, torn from her thoughts, and she turned to find a young man walking towards her.  Her eyes widened as she took him in.  It was…

 

He hadn’t changed, either.  His hair was longer and bit unrulier, but the long copper locks were still tied back into a low ponytail.  Dark sunglasses were propped on his head – she figured they were more for the look than actual necessity, as it had been overcast and threatening rain all day – allowing her to see those green, green eyes that still sparkled with mischief.  He even still wore a kilt, though the dress shirt he had worn when he was younger had been swapped out for a worn charcoal tee shirt that had ‘GBS’ stamped over an intricate knot.  A leather thong was tied around his wrist, a bluish gem woven into the braids.  She could still see traces of the boy that had shown her around this castle the first time in him, but even more than that…more than that, she could see the king he had been.  As he approached her, he was all lithe, cocksure grace – but then he drew closer, and she turned to fully face him, and he hesitated as uncertainty flitted across his elfin features.

 

“No way…” he gasped, and the uncertainty broke like the clouds before the sun as a smile split his face.  “Ami?  No feckin’ way!  Can’t be you, can it?”

 

He rushed over to her, but he hesitated just short of embracing her.  The little knot of fear that had clenched in her stomach slowly unfurled.  He remembered her, but from when they were children (impressive enough, she had to admit, given they had only spent a handful of hours together eleven years ago).  He didn’t seem to recall…

 

“Zane, right?” she asked, smiling slightly.  His grin widened again, and she gasped as he suddenly hugged her.  He was laughing joyously, and she felt a smile tugging at her lips.

 

“Saints above, it is you!  God, girseach, how’ve you been?  It’s been forever!” he laughed as he pulled away.  He hesitated when she didn’t answer, his grin slipping.  “And what are you doing up here?  Alone?  Eejit!  What the hell are you doing up here?!”

 

She stepped back, startled by the sudden aggressive turn.  His joy of only moments ago had been replaced by a hard look, one she hadn’t seen in a lifetime: fear danced along the edges, but it was all the fierce determination of a king.

 

“I…I was in the area, and I wanted to see the castle again,” she said.  It wasn’t entirely a lie, but it didn’t seem to satisfy him, either.

 

“I’m sorry, Ami, but you can’t be here.  It’s not safe,” he said.  She pulled back from him, snatching away the wrist he still held to place both hands on her hips in a stance of stubborn defiance.

 

“I seem to recall your mother saying it wasn’t safe back then, either,” she bit, “but that didn’t seem to stop you before.  And if it’s so unsafe what are you doing here?”

 

“I –” he started, but a noise behind them drew his attention.  It wasn’t anything consequential: the scuttling of rocks, probably something displaced by a rabbit or some other wild thing exploring the ruins.  A new terror lit in his eyes at the sound, though, and he grabbed at her wrist again.  “Listen to me, girseach.  When I tell you to run, you _run_.”

 

The scuttling came again, and Ami tensed as his grip tightened on her wrist.

 

“Zane, what…?” she started to ask.  Her head began to turn, but before she could properly see behind her he was tugging her wrist, shoving her past him, and screaming at her to go.  He bolted away from her, towards the darkened stairwell that led further into the ruins, and she hesitated only a moment before her feet heeded his instructions and began carrying her back towards the town.

 

– V –

 

She wondered later what the hell was wrong with her.

 

She was a Sailor Senshi, a personal guardian of the Moon Princess herself, and a perfectly competent warrior in her own right.  Why had she run?  Even if Zane had ordered her to, why had she so readily listened to him?  Why had she left him alone to face…whatever it was that had scared him so?  She felt sick at the thought, remembering a lifetime ago when he had last told her to run and charged off into the fray.

 

He never came back – or at least what did eventually return with his face hadn’t been _him_.

 

She sighed and leaned forward on the grimy table, her hand coming up to cover her eyes and rub at her temples.  The memories were getting worse.  The flashbacks were coming more frequently, and what she remembered…she jumped at the harsh scrap of chair legs against stone, and she lowered her hand to find Zane collapsing into the chair beside her.

 

Well.  At least he had come back this time.

 

“’Ey, Tom, one of your strongest,” he called, waving at the man behind the bar.  The man – probably in his late twenties or early thirties – snorted as he continued cleaning a glass.

 

“You’ll have to get your lazy arse up and order properly if you want it that bad,” he called.  “I don’t care how dead it is in here right now – I’m not waiting on you, _Majesty_.”

 

Zane looked at her with a weary smile and jerked his head back at Tom.

 

“See that?  No respect,” he sighed.  He shoved himself up and walked over to the bar, where Tom placed a glass on the counter before him.  Zane raised it in salute.  “Sláinte.”

 

“Christ, boyo,” Tom whistled as Zane proceeded to drain half the glass.  “Take it easy.  Take it no luck, then?”

 

“Nah,” Zane sighed.  He roughly shoved a hand through his hair and took another sip of his drink – slower this time.  “Close, though.  Tomorrow hopefully.”

 

“You’re a right fool, you are,” Tom sighed.  “You should just leave it to Kas and be done with it.  The garda will –”

 

“Not be able to do a damned thing, and you know it,” Zane bit.  “And Kas is more than welcome to help, but he’s got his own shite to deal with now.  So feck off already.”

 

“You’re gonna get yourself killed, boyo,” Tom hissed, leaning closer.  Ami felt herself bristle at the warning, but when Zane glanced back at her she quickly returned her gaze to the mug of tea warming her hands.

 

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” she heard him quip.  He thanked Tom for the drink, and she heard the barkeep grumbling in reply as Zane returned to his seat beside her.

 

“Do I want to know?” she asked, looking up from her tea.  His grin was entirely too toothy, his eyes sparkling with too much innocence.

 

“Know what?  Tom’s just an old bastard,” he said, raising his glass to her before drinking again.  He sighed as he leaned back in his seat, stretching his legs out in front of him.  She raised an eyebrow at the muddy combat boots covering his feet, but he wasn’t really looking at her anymore.  “Christ, I’m knackered.”

 

Ami was sorely tempted to laugh.  The whole mess was just too ridiculous.  She was sitting in a nearly deserted pub in a country she had spent a week in when she was eight years old across from a man she had only spent a handful of hours with during that week.  She remembered he had jotted an address in the back of a book she’d had with her, but it wasn’t like she had kept in touch - and here he was, acting like they were old friends.  Like they had always been thick as thieves and no time had passed at all since their last meeting.  When you threw in the extenuating circumstances further complicating matters…the thought gave her pause.  Her own memories of the Silver Millennium had remained murky at best until the wedding.  Usagi and Mamoru marrying had broken the proverbial dam that had shielded the Senshi from the more traumatic recollections of the past.  Eyeing Zane over her tea, she wondered if the same was true of the Shitennou.

 

…not that any of them had realized the men from their past were still alive.

 

“Sorry,” he sighed, tearing her from her thoughts.  “I was so excited to see you earlier, but I’m afraid I’m not much of a companion tonight.”

 

“You still haven’t told me what you were doing up there,” she accused.

 

“You still haven’t told me what you were doing up there,” he countered, waggling his eyebrows at her.  His grin grew as she visibly bristled, and he waved her off.  “Relax, girseach.  You said you wanted to see the castle again, but what I meant was what brings you back here?  Awfully far from…Japan, right?”

 

“I’m amazed you remember,” she said.  A small smile tugged at her lips.  She knew she should stay on guard, but it was too easy to relax around him.  His presence was…comforting.  Familiar.  Makoto would describe him as the type of guy you could grab a beer with, if you were into that kind of thing.  (Ami wasn’t, but the sentiment still stood.  Zane had this air about him that made you feel you welcomed.)

 

“Yeah, well, don’t know if you remember, but I was quite smitten by you,” he chuckled.  “Would you believe I actually told me mam that I was in love with you?”

 

She choked on her tea, and he laughed as he reached over and clapped her back.

 

“Easy, girseach,” he laughed.  “I was a bit put out that you never wrote.  Thought we were gonna be friends.”

 

“I…life got complicated,” she said, taking a quick sip of her tea to clear the burning in her throat.  He hummed, looking out the window to the rainy street beyond.  “To be fair, I didn’t think you were serious.”

 

“I’m always serious,” he quipped.  At her raised eyebrow, he winked.  “Usually.  Was about you, though.  Besides, it’s not every day I take a pretty little thing up to my castle.”

 

“You’re incorrigible,” she laughed, and he shrugged.

 

“Not really.  Just usually know what I want.  Anyway, I get it – life getting complicated.  Had a pretty bad accident not long after you were here.  Lost about two years,” he said.  It was like he had just doused her with one of her own frozen attacks.

 

“Did…did you?” she asked, and he nodded.

 

“Serves me right, really.  Slipped on the rocks or something at the castle, bashed my head in.  That’s what they tell me, at least.  I was in a coma for two years,” he said.  He chuckled slightly and reached for his drink again.  “Mam wouldn’t let me near it for ages.  She’s still furious I sneak off.  Anyway, that’s all past.  Hope your complication wasn’t as complicated.”

 

She was amazed at how…blasé he was about it all, like being in a coma for two years was no big deal.  She wondered how much of the ‘hit his head on the rocks’ story was true, though.  It all seemed very convenient, if it really was not too long after she had visited.  That would place it…well, around when her own life got _complicated_.

 

“Right!  So, what are you plans for tomorrow?  Night time, specifically?” he asked, jerking her from her thoughts again.

 

“S-sorry?” she asked.

 

“I want to catch up – maybe take you to dinner?  Which I’d offer tonight, but like I said: knackered.  I’m afraid as soon as I get home I’m gonna be out,” he said, laughing again.  “I’m gonna be tied up during the day, but I’m hoping it won’t take too long.”

 

“Are you going back to the castle?” she asked.  It was the first time since he had sat down that he seemed to tense, as if he were nervous about going into too much detail.

 

“Look, girseach,” he sighed.  She frowned at the endearment, thinking she should probably be offended at its use but unsure why it rankled her so.  He leaned forward, back to the table, drawing closer to her and leveling her with a wary eye.  “I’m asking as a friend.  And if you don’t feel comfortable calling me such then as a local.  There’s been a spot of trouble up that way the past week, and I need you to promise me you won’t go near it again.”

 

“But you’re going back,” she accused, and he nodded.

 

“My castle.  My responsibility,” he said.  “I don’t need you getting hurt, girseach.”

 

“I can take care of myself,” she pressed, and he nodded.

 

“Sure you can,” he said, and despite the words there was nothing condescending about his tone.  He believed her, but he still found the point moot.  She tried not to feel offended by it all.  “But I’d rather not risk it.  My castle, my responsibility.  Please, Ami.  Don’t go back there.”

 

“How do I know this isn’t just another one of your ghost stories?” she asked, and he chuckled as he tugged at his hair again.

 

“Oh, there’s still a ghost,” he said with a shake of his head, “but she’s not what’s been…look, it should be done tomorrow.  If you’re sticking around a bit, I’ll take you back and give you a grand tour once it’s safe.  Just promise me you won’t go back yet.”

 

She pressed her lips together in a tight frown.  She didn’t want to promise him anything, and yet…

 

“Fine,” she sighed.  “I promise.”

 

– V –

 

She had had every intention of keeping that promise, too – until she looked outside her window at a quarter to midnight and saw a familiar, long-haired figure walking down the street.  She had hesitated only a moment before grabbing a coat, stuffing the essentials like her room key and wallet into a pocket, and making her way downstairs.

 

“Wouldn’t go out there if I were you, miss.”

 

She froze at the door, the old voice halting her in her tracks.  She turned to the desk as a light clicked on, the elderly innkeeper frowning at her from the meager glow of an antique lamp.

 

“I…I was having trouble sleeping,” she said.  It wasn’t a total lie, and she prayed it sounded convincing enough to the man.  “I thought I’d take a walk to clear my head.  Maybe make myself tired – jetlag and all that.”

 

“Hmmm,” the man hummed.  He leaned back in his chair and glanced out the window.  “Heard you were up by those ruins earlier.  Might be you’re thinking of going back.”

 

“No,” she said, maybe a bit too quickly.  “I promised…I told a friend I wouldn’t, so I won’t.”

 

“Good.  Strange things been happening up there as of late,” he said.  “Garda say some hooligans have been attacking tourists.  Wouldn’t want you getting hurt, miss.”

 

“Attacks?” she asked, frowning.  Zane had told her there had been trouble at the castle, and she recalled what the barkeep had told Zane earlier, about letting the police handle things.  Was that what he had been doing at the ruins, then?  Tracking down some miscreants?

 

“Nothing to worry your pretty little head about, to be sure,” the innkeeper said.  He produced a half-eaten apple and took a bite.  “Long as you don’t go near it.  Besides, it’s late.  Should stay indoors.  Never can tell what sort of beasties be wandering about this time of night.  Witching hour and all that.”

 

“I’ll be fine,” she said.  Perhaps a bit too harshly, but the old man merely sighed and waved her off.

 

“Suit yourself,” he said.  “Just don’t come crying to me if you wind up dead.”

 

She didn’t even take the time to point out how idiotic that sounded.  Her eyes tightened into a glare as she gave him a curt nod, and moments later she was on the street.  Zane had gotten a decent head start on her, but she could still see him making his way out of town – towards the cliffs.  She kept a safe distance behind him, using years of similar experiences to dart from shadow to shadow as she tailed him.  He had almost reached the town limits when another voice, this one loud and authoritative, caused her to jump into an alleyway.

 

“And just where the hell do you think you’re going, Murphy?”

 

Ami glanced around the edge of the building she was pressed against to see a man with short, curly dark hair approaching Zane.  He wore a policeman’s uniform, and he didn’t look happy.  Zane gave him an easy-going grin, but the man was nonplussed.

 

“Evening, officer,” Zane said easily.  “Just out for a late-night stroll.  Yourself?”

 

“Cut the shite, Murphy,” the officer bit.  “Thought you were gonna leave this to us professionals?”

 

“Well, if you professionals actually knew what the hell you were doing, I might,” Zane quipped.  “As is, I –”

 

“Will be turning your good for nothing arse around right now and heading back home,” the officer instructed, placing his hands on his hips and glaring at the younger man.  “I mean it, Zane.  You’ve done enough – stop worrying your mam like this and get home.”

 

“The hell I will, Sean!  If you think for a minute –” Zane started, but the presence of another man cut him off.

 

“Gentlemen!” the man shouted, his voice deep and commanding.  Ami watched him approach with wide eyes: walking towards them, wearing a similar uniform to the other man, was Kunzite.  He stopped before them, his arms crossed disapprovingly across his chest as his steely gaze shifted between the two.  Ami was surprised to see his silver hair was still long, though tied back – she would have thought regulations would dictate he cut it, but somehow she couldn’t quite picture the proud man with short hair.

 

“Sir,” the other officer, Sean, was quick to say.  “Caught this one roaming the streets.  Just sending him on his way.”

 

“The hell you were, you –” Zane started, but he froze when Kunzite leveled him with a glare.

 

“Thank you for your concern, Officer Keane, but I’ll take it from here,” he said.  Sean sputtered out a few weak protests, but Kunzite turned his glare on him and the man promptly shut up.  “Thank you, Officer, but _I’ll take it from here_.”

 

“Sir,” Sean bit, and after a parting glare at Zane he stalked off into the night.  Ami ducked back into the shadows as he walked past, grumbling darkly all the way.

 

“You need to stop antagonizing him,” Kunzite sighed when the other man was gone.  Ami peeked back around the corner to see he had relaxed slightly, though his arms still remained crossed over his chest.  “One of these days he will find a reason to arrest you, and I won’t be able to stop him.”

 

“Sure you will,” Zane said, laughing slightly.  “Else what’s the point of having family on the force?”

 

“You push your luck,” Kunzite warned.  Zane grew silent, looking off to the edge of town and the castle looming in the distance.  “Why aren’t you home, Zane?  You know mum’ll go mad if she wakes up and finds you gone again.”

 

“I told you earlier: I didn’t catch it,” he said, and Kunzite groaned as he reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

 

“Zane…” he sighed.  “You were out there all day.  You need to rest – what good will you be if you’re too tired to fight?”

 

“It’s been left unchecked long enough, Kas,” Zane said.  “Three people are dead, and we both know it won’t stop.  I haven’t been able to catch it during the day, so I figured if I tried at night I might have more luck.”

 

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Kunzite said tersely.  “One of the victims went missing in broad daylight – the time of day has nothing to do with when it attacks.”

 

“Doesn’t it, though?  We both know these things are typically more active at night, and it’s a border creature to boot – what better time than midnight to track it down?” Zane pressed, and Kunzite groaned again.  “Look, I got enough rest earlier.  I’ll be fine.  Come with me if you’re so worried.”

 

“You know I can’t, not without a better excuse,” Kunzite sighed.  He reached out, clasping a hand on Zane’s shoulder.  Ami was surprised to see a leather thong nearly identical to Zane’s own tied about Kunzite’s wrist, this one holding a light pink stone.  Zane reached up and grasped the hand, and Ami’s eyes widened as the two stones seemed to react, pulsing with a light glow when they were brought in proximity to the other.  Something was tickling at her mind, something from years ago…she knew those stones…  “Be careful, brother.”

 

“I always am,” Zane said flippantly, and Kunzite laughed slightly as he squeezed his shoulder before releasing him.  He started to walk off, instructing Zane to call if he needed him.  Zane laughed, calling him a worry wort, before he turned and once more began making his way towards the cliffs.  When the coast was clear, Ami followed.

 

– V –

 

The castle was an entirely different creature at night.  The clouds had miraculously cleared during the evening – something Ami had had yet to see during her time there – and the moon shone brightly in the sky, casting the ruins in an otherworldly glow.  A slight breeze had picked up, carrying with it the scent of the sea and wet grass and stone.  Ami shivered as she hugged her jacket tighter to her.

 

She remembered another such night early into their acquaintance.  It was the longest she had been Earthbound since the peace talks had started, and she was desperately homesick – not just for her native Mercury, but for the Moon she had come to call home since her Senshi training had truly begun.  Finding herself unable to sleep, she had taken to reading one of the tomes she had borrowed from the castle library.  She was halfway through the book when the presumptuous young lord (who hadn’t stopped flirting with her the entire time she had been there, much to her vexation) had knocked on her door, claiming he had a surprise for her.  He had taken her up to the wall-walk, and she remembered her breath leaving her at the view.  The moon had been large, shining down on the sea beyond with such beauty…

 

It was the first time Zoisite had kissed her.

 

She took a deep, steadying breath.  Now was not the time for such thoughts, if what the townspeople had said was to be believed.  She had to stay vigilant.

 

Following Zane had been much harder once he had left the town behind.  The road to the cliffs and the castle was a barren incline that provided no cover.  She had lingered, giving him a head start before she had taken off after him.  She knew it would take only one wrong step, one stumble or kicked pebble, to be caught.  Luck seemed to be on her side, however, as she followed him up the hill and he passed through the crumbling outer wall without being any wiser to her presence.  She had watched from a safe distance as he had disappeared deeper into the ruins, and she had taken the opportunity to creep up behind the wall.

 

Now she wasn’t quite sure where he had run off to.  The place seemed deserted, a deathly silence that was broken only by the wind whistling over the grass and through the ancient halls.  And…was that…whistling?  She frowned and peered around the wall, watching as Zane emerged into the courtyard.  He had been whistling, but he stopped as he stepped into the moonlight and looked around.

 

“All right, ye beastie,” he called, his voice echoing over the rocks.  “Twelve thirty.  Where the hell are you?”

 

Silence greeted him.

 

“Right,” he sighed.  He looked around, frowning, before he turned back to the shadows of a stairwell.  He picked up his song, his voice louder and sounding almost care-free as he disappeared into the darkness.  “Musha ring dumma do, dumma da…”

 

Ami’s eyes narrowed, and before she could question the wisdom behind her decision she darted across the courtyard and up the stairwell behind him.  He had stopped whistling by this point, opting instead for outright, lighthearted singing.

 

“Whack for my daddy-o, whack for my daddy-o, there’s whiskey in the jar,” he sang, turning right and climbing higher into the ruins.  Ami paused before stepping onto the landing, glimpsing around the corner to find him still climbing.  “I first produced my pistol and then produced my rapier.  Saying, ‘Stand and deliver, for you are a bold deceiver…’”

 

He stopped when he reached the next landing, the song trailing off.  He had tensed, but Ami couldn’t see into the room beyond.  She watched as Zane’s fist clenched, and the next thing she knew he had raised his arm, the gem in his bracelet producing a blinding, familiar flash.  When it had cleared, a long, brown cloak had unfurled from his shoulders.  The wind caught it, pulling it back, and Ami’s eyes widened as she saw the white and gold uniform beneath.

 

She remembered that uniform.

 

It was different – better – than the last one she had seen him in, the sooty gray Beryl had forced them into when she had taken control of their minds.  It was the uniform of an Elysian King.  Of a Shitennou.  It was…

 

She closed her eyes when she heard him speak, his voice summoning a thousand memories she knew she didn’t have time to indulge.  She took a steadying breath and looked back to the landing, but he was gone.  Cursing slightly, she pulled out her henshin wand and followed his lead.  Moments later, Sailor Mercury was creeping up the steps.

 

“You’re a long way from home, boyo,” Zoisite said evenly, his voice echoing through the chamber.  Mercury froze when she heard the snarling response.  She darted up the last few steps and ducked behind the doorway, peeking around in time to see Zoisite summon his sword.  Her breath hitched at the sight of the claymore – she had forgotten…  “About time you showed your ugly mug.”

 

Mercury looked past him, and she felt her blood freeze.  He stood just inside a large, empty room.  The windows on the seaward wall had long since rotted away, and a large section of stone had begun crumbling on the opposite wall, creeping into the ceiling.  The result was a cross breeze that chilled the room and a swathe of moonlight illuminating the center.  Something was moving among the shadows at the far end, its eyes gleaming in the darkness.  A low snuffling, snarling noise was coming from it as it slunk along the wall, but it didn’t speak in reply to Zoisite’s taunts.  Mercury wondered if whatever it was was capable of speech.

 

“You’ve been hurting my people,” Zoisite continued, notching his sword on the stone before him.  He stood, tall and proud and fearless before the thing in the shadows.  “I can’t allow that.”

 

“Taoiseach,” the creature spat, and Zoisite grinned at him.

 

“Finally, some respect!” he laughed, but the creature let out a sudden snarl and leapt at him.  Mercury nearly screamed when it crossed into the light.

 

She should be used to strange, unnatural things.  She had fought countless youma over the course of her life, and they weren’t always the most appealing beings.  This…whatever this thing was, it was worse.  It wasn’t terribly tall, maybe just over three feet, but it was all gnarled, gangly limbs.  It was horribly fast, and had Zoisite not raised his sword to lock against the pointed, curling claws of its hands she might not have gotten a good look at it.  While it could be considered scrawny, she saw the muscles roped over its arms.  It was dressed simply, in tattered trousers, a fraying vest, and rusted boots.  Wispy, white hair crept out beneath a cap, and its gnarled face made it look old – like a diminutive, elderly man, but somehow she knew there was nothing human about this creature.  Its cap was perhaps the worst of it.  It was a deep, dark color, and when it caught the moonlight it glistened.  There was a stench, vile and rank, cloying the air.  Seeing the slick shine of that cap, Mercury had no doubt about what was coating it.

 

As soon as it had crossed into the light it was gone, moving with Zoisite’s swing to dart back into the shadows.  It returned moments later, darting beneath his blade to swipe at the High King’s legs – but Zoisite was quick, too, and he easily sidestepped before shoving a boot against the creature’s back.  It momentarily lost its balance, but it recovered in time to dodge Zoisite’s following swing.  On and on it went, weaving in and out of Zoisite’s strokes like a deadly, intricate dance until finally it stood panting on the edge of the shadows.  It snarled and stepped closer, but Zoisite raised his claymore and grinned at it.

 

“Come on, then,” he taunted, not even winded.  “I expected more from the likes of you.”

 

It yowled, then, and leapt quicker than either of them had expected.  Zoisite cursed and dodged the creature just in time, rolling under his blade even as his opponent arced above him.  When Zoisite turned to parry the next blow, Mercury noticed the red staining his shoulder.  He forced the monster back with a grunt, and it chuckled as it came to rest a few steps away – just out of reach.  It raised its claws, dripping with Zoisite’s blood, and lapped at them with a pallid tongue.  Her fist clenched in fury, but still she lingered just out of sight.

 

“I expected more from the likes of you,” it chuckled.  Its voice was raspy, halted – as if it was unused to human speech.  It dipped its head, dark eyes glinting.  “Taoiseach.”

 

“I’d offer you a last chance to leave,” Zoisite said, rolling his injured shoulder with a grimace, “but we both know you’d just move on to kill elsewhere.  As I can’t allow that, be a good fellow and just die already.”

 

“We have more right to this land than you, child king,” it rasped.  “You die.”

 

“I’m older than I look, I’m afraid,” Zoisite’s voice was steel, despite his joking tone.  “My land.  My castle.  My people you’ve been snacking on.  So, sorry, but – Christ above!”

 

He was knocked to the ground as the creature roared and dove for his midsection.  His sword was knocked from his hands, and he cursed again as he grappled with the howling beast.  It gnashed its teeth at him, twisting its claws in an attempt to dislodge Zoisite’s hands from its wrists.  Zoisite tried to remove him with a kick, but it was too short and the High King too lanky – his boots only scrambled against the stone, his enemy proving stronger than it initially looked.

 

She couldn’t just watch anymore.

 

Her eyes narrowed on the creature as she summoned a blast of freezing water, her arm shooting out fluidly as the wave sprang from her fingertips.  It yowled as the attack slammed into its side, throwing it from Zoisite to crash into a wall where it fell in a startled heap to the floor, panting as the dust settled around it.  Zoisite’s head jerked up in surprise as she stepped into the moonlight, her boots clicking against the stone the only sound to announce her presence.  Her hand was still raised towards their opponent, but her eyes slid to Zoisite to check for any new injuries.  He seemed fine, if otherwise startled.

 

“You…” he gasped out, but her focus had already returned to the creature, who was pushing itself up.

 

“You looked like you could use some help,” she said, hoping her voice sounded as light as she intended.  She didn’t see Zoisite’s blink, but she heard his chuckle as he hopped up and grabbed his sword.

 

“I had it covered,” he said.  “I was just lulling it into a false sense of security.”

 

“By letting it attempt to eat your face?” she asked.  When he failed to answer, she shot him a smile.  “I rather like your face, my king.  Perhaps we could attempt to preserve it?”

 

His jaw had dropped, and she was pleased to find his skin looked rosier in the moonlight.  Was it actually possible that she had made him blush?

 

The creature, tired of being ignored, didn’t give her a chance to really entertain the idea.  It yowled and charged, and without a second thought she summoned a freezing fog to obscure the area.  She heard it scuttle against the stones as it halted its charge, an enraged grunting letting her know it was closer than she was comfortable with.  As she slipped back to Zoisite’s side, she clicked her earring and activated her visor.  It was scenting the air, snarling as it took a hesitant step forward in the fog.

 

“I assume you don’t actually have a plan beyond killing it?” she whispered, glancing to the startled king beside her.

 

“You…and the fog…” Zoisite spluttered, gesturing blindly, and she fought the urge to roll her eyes.

 

“Zoisite, focus!” she hissed.  “Do you have a plan?”

 

“Kill it,” he supplied, and this time she did roll her eyes.  Zoisite had always had an impetuous streak, but he had at least been practical.  Calculating.  He was a born tactician that rarely flew by the seat of his pants, and she found this new Roll With It attitude of his disconcerting.  She sighed and reached under her visor, pinching the bridge of her nose.

 

“The fog won’t distract it for long,” she said.  “Any weaknesses?  What is it?”

 

“Bad news,” he said, but before he could give her any more information it was howling again and charging blindly out of the fog.  He shoved her aside with a shout to move as he spun into the creature’s path, lifting his blade to block its attack.  He kicked at it before swinging again, but it darted out of his way and charged towards her instead.  She heard Zoisite shouting at her as she flipped out of the way, her hand landing against its back as she went.  She focused on that point, summoning a blast of water that sent it flailing into the adjacent wall.  It gasped as it slipped against the wet stone, its chest heaving in rage as it raised murderous eyes her way.

 

Her visor wasn’t proving to be very helpful.  Her eyes narrowed as she quickly scanned the information flashing before her eyes: readings of the creature, an error message claiming no identification was available, and an option for a more thorough scan she knew would be useless.  As the creature charged again, she knew there wouldn’t be time to complete it.

 

“Zoisite!” she shouted as she leapt out of the way again.  This time, it barreled past her to slash at him.  “Weaknesses!”

 

“Doesn’t really have any!” he grunted as he slashed at it.  The sound it made as the blade cut against its side sent tremors down Mercury’s spine.  “Little bastard’s been feasting lately – he’s at top strength, I reckon!”

 

“Die!” it screeched as it leapt upon him.

 

“You first!” Zoisite barked, tossing his sword to the side and opting instead for a well-placed punch to the creature’s jaw.  The brawling style lacked his usual finesse, but she was quickly learning that – just as with the Senshi – perhaps there weren’t any ‘usual’s anymore.  He cursed as the creature skidded back, its bloodied teeth gleaming as it smirked at him.  His blade had seemed too long to prove any real use in the fight, but punching the damn thing had been like driving his fist against solid rock.  Its next attack was cut off as another wave of water shot it across the room.  He grinned maniacally at Mercury as she came up beside him.  “Saw that going better in my head!”

 

She glanced at his hand, frowning as she did a quick scan.  Her visor didn’t pick up any fractures, but his knuckles were definitely bruised.  He gestured haphazardly at the demon stalking the shadows before them.

 

“Thinking long-range attacks will be the best bet – can’t seem to do much good when he gets close,” Zoisite said.  “Think you can keep him at bay so I can run him through?”

 

She was about to assure him that it would be no problem when she was tackled to the ground, and she screamed as its teeth sank into her forearm.  She kicked at it, scrambling, but it held tight.  Its lips curled back, a dark, wet chuckle slipping from the demon.  Its teeth lodged deep, red spilling over her gloves.  She screamed as she drew her good arm back, preparing an attack, when the scream turned pained as its teeth were ripped from her arm.

 

“Let her go, ye bastard!” Zoisite shouted, grabbing it from behind and yanking it back.  He slammed his foot into its abdomen, sending it skidding away, and Mercury saw her opening.  She lurched forward, throwing her good arm out with a final shout of desperation.  She focused her power and shot a frozen blast the demon’s way.  It howled again as it leapt towards them – perhaps to dodge her attack, perhaps in a blind, bloodthirsty fury – but the shine of the wave sprouting from her fingertips caught it mid-air.  It howled again, deeper and more desperate, as its claws tore through the air.  She could see the strain from trying to kick its legs, but it was incased in ice from the waist-down.  Before she could breathe, before she could even think they had a moment to regroup, she heard the telltale splinters, the cracks forming in the ice from the strength behind its powerful legs.  She was gathering another attack when Zoisite spun away from her, twirling his claymore with a practiced ease that belied the sword’s weight, and a heavy _thwump_ followed his battle cry.

 

She felt her stomach lurch as she looked up again and saw the spatter on the ceiling, the head lolled to a stop just before her.  Zoisite stood over the corpse, chest heaving as his grip tightened on the sword lodged in the stone.  Its blade shone with thick, dark blood, and he glared at the head with such hate it almost made her blood chill.  She winced when he stalked over and, with a definitive kick, punted the head back over to the body.

 

She was used to youma that tended to disintegrate once they were defeated.  Even if they were from totems, like a card or a crystal or a mirror, the totem would turn to ash once it was truly dead.  A smattering of glittering energy left to blow away in the void.  This…whatever this thing was, it didn’t seem inclined to do the same.  She was about to ask Zoisite what they should do with the thing when she heard the sound of a match striking, and her eyes widened as he dropped the match onto the body.  Within moments it was covered in flames, a macabre beacon held aloft by the rapidly melting ice.

 

“Sorry,” he said, voice rough, “but I didn’t really wanna touch that thing.  Sure you understand.”

 

She looked away from the fire, but before she could reply her eyes locked on its hat, dislodged from when Zoisite had kicked it and still lying in a wet heap on the floor.  Her stomach flipped again, and he frowned when he turned back to look at her.

 

“Christ above,” he cursed as he saw the hat lying there.  He snatched it with the tip of his sword and tossed it on the flames.  “Sorry.”

 

She had been fighting youma since she was fourteen.  At the time, the worst trauma her young life had experienced was an ultimately tame divorce from her parents.  She had been thrust into the supernatural somewhat against her will, and in all that time…with all the horrors she had seen, with all the death she had seen…this was the first time it had physically made her ill.  She had felt ill before, true, but as she doubled over and the meager contents of her stomach emptied onto the stone floor she couldn’t recall a time that sick feeling had ever had a physical manifestation.

 

“Easy there, easy there…let it out,” Zoisite’s comforting voice came from behind her, and she tensed as she felt his hand running soothing lines along her back.  She thought she should be mortified, but she felt too drained to care.  She leaned back on her heels, bringing a hand up to wipe her glove against her mouth.  She winced when she caught sight of the blood staining that glove.

 

“S-sorry,” she croaked.  She took a few gasping breaths, trying to calm her rattled nerves.  It didn’t seem to be working.  “Not my best moment, but…what was that thing?  You never did say.”

 

“Redcap,” he said, looking back to the fire.  There was a certain hate glinting in his usually carefree eyes.  “They’re not normally this far south, but I guess…”

 

His voice trailed off, and she felt his hand tense on her back.  Funny how she hadn’t realized he was still touching her.  She looked at him in question and found he was watching her with wide eyes.

 

“You guess…?” she offered, dipping her head towards him, and she yelped as he grabbed her arm.

 

“Shite,” he hissed, “you’re still bleeding!”

 

“I’ll be fine,” she said reassuringly, placing her free hand on his shoulder.  He glanced up at her, the concern in his eyes almost overwhelming, and she did her best to smile at him.  “Really, Zoisite.  I’ve had worse.”

 

“Worse…” he murmured, and he frowned as his eyes narrowed at her.  “You know me.  You know my name.  How?”

 

She watched him for a long moment, studying him.  There was recognition in his eyes, but it was confused – she realized that, despite regaining his powers, he didn’t seem to remember her.  She wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

 

“Yes,” she finally said, nodding.  “I know you.”

 

“I’ve seen you before,” he said quickly, straightening slightly.  “I mean…not _you_ , but…no, you.  I’ve…I’ve been dreaming about you.  I just didn’t know it ‘til I saw you.”

 

“O-oh?” she asked, startled by his admission.  He nodded, and she bit her lower lip.  “That’s –”

 

“I was looking for you,” he continued, cutting her off.  “I was supposed to find you.  When I sleep, I see you, right?  But…not you.  You’re dressed fancier.  And you’re all shadowy.  But it’s you – I’d know you anywhere.  And you’re telling me I have to find you, because you can take me to the Prince.”

 

She hadn’t expected his admission to hurt as much as it did.  It shouldn’t have surprised her – after all, when the Senshi were first awoken, wasn’t their primary objective to find the missing Moon Princess?  It only made sense that the Shitennou would be concerned with locating their Prince.  And really, if that was all he remembered, shouldn’t she just be glad some part of him at least remembered a bit of her, too?

 

She also hadn’t quite known how she would feel upon seeing him again, if she ever saw him again.  For so long he had simply been a childhood enemy, and even knowing that he had formerly served Prince Endymion…he was a defector, at best.  Until the memories started returning.  After that, she hadn’t known what to expect.  She thought she’d be angry.  She thought she might even be excited, or relieved – happy, maybe.  She hadn’t thought she’d feel so…disappointed.  Sad.

 

“I can take you to the Prince, yes,” she finally said, her grip on his shoulder tightening slightly.  Her hand was shaking.  She wished it would stop.  “Do you really not remember anything, Zoisite?”  _Do you really not remember me?_

 

He was frowning at her again.

 

“I…I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head.  “I look at you, and I know you, and I don’t know why, but…I’m sorry.  I feel like I’m really, really sorry – like I can’t tell you that enough.”

 

“I don’t think you need to be as sorry as you think,” she said, laughing slightly.  It was too much.  It was all just too much.  She wanted to hug him, and she wanted to cry, and – more than anything, she realized with a glance back to the pyre – she just wanted to sleep.  “I…think we should talk.”

 

“Yeah, probably should,” he said, sitting back.  She shook her head as she took his hand.  He jerked slightly at the contact, his eyes darting up to her own.

 

“Not now,” she said, squeezing his hand.  “I know you have to be exhausted – I am.  I’ll meet you at the pub tomorrow for lunch?”

 

“I…sure,” he said, nodding dumbly.  “But…how will I know you?”

 

She did laugh at that, unable to stop herself.

 

“Oh, you’ll know me,” she said.  She waved her arm at him.  “If nothing else look for the girl with the bandaged arm.”

 

“That’s not –” he started, but she pressed a finger to his lips and shook her head.

 

“You finish up here,” she said, refusing to look at the fire.  “I’ll see you tomorrow, ok?”

 

She left him there, quickly disappearing into the shadows as he called after her retreating form.

 

– V –

 

She had told him she was exhausted, and it was true.  That still didn’t mean she was able to sleep when she got back to her room.  She was exhausted, yes, but she was also running on adrenaline.  She felt like a livewire, practically buzzing as her mind turned over everything that had happened.

 

Zane.

 

Zoisite.

 

The…Redcap, had he called it?  Thinking back on its grotesque hat, she found the name apropos.

 

Prior to the wedding, Luna and Artemis had warned them that their monarchs’ union would act as a trigger.  They had all known there were still memories missing from the Silver Millennium, just as they knew their advisors and monarchs knew more than they did.  Usagi had felt it only fair to warn them that the memories were coming, and that they may not like what they recalled (she had given Rei a particularly pointed look at this).  But it would be necessary, Luna had argued, for the times to come.  With Crystal Tokyo just around the corner, they would need full access to their former lives and powers in order to rule properly.  They had already seen it manifest, she had continued, with their growing powers – specifically how they no longer needed to use incantations to summon their attacks.  The unlocking of their memories was just the next step in their growth.

 

So the Senshi had known the memories would be returning, they had known they may not be pleasant, and they had all agreed that – unless something truly dire happened – Mamoru and Usagi were not to be disturbed on their honeymoon.  Ami knew this, had agreed to it, and had even been the one to suggest it – they were adults now, after all, and surely they could handle things themselves while their leaders took a well-deserved vacation?

 

That had, of course, been before she had returned to Ireland.  Before she had seen Zane along the wall-walk and realized exactly who he was.  Before she had fought alongside Zoisite against a…Redcap.  (And what on earth was a Redcap, anyway?  A new enemy?  A lone straggler left over from a previous enemy?  It seemed ridiculous, as most of their previous enemies had seemed…well, centralized to Japan.)

 

So she pulled out her phone, and at around a quarter after two in the morning she dialed Usagi’s number.

 

She caught them in the middle of breakfast.

 

Her apologies were longer than her explanation for the call, but Mamoru was glad for the intrusion.  He agreed that they needed to be made aware, and he asked her to call again after she had met with Zane.

 

“They’re…if all they have to go on are obscure dreams telling them to find me,” Mamoru said, his voice heavy with ghosts of the past, “then they’re going to need us.  Thank you for this, Ami.”

 

She still wasn’t able to sleep after the call ended, so after treating her wound she pulled out her laptop and searched for Redcaps.  There hadn’t been much to go from – just some obscure mythology sites giving a too-brief description of an old monster and too many references to Dungeons and Dragons and other fantasy games.  She passed out with a poor artist’s rendition leering back at her and without setting an alarm, and when she finally woke up it was just past noon.

 

She had fallen asleep in her clothes from the day before, and after quickly brushing her teeth and running her hands through her bedraggled hair she grabbed her jacket and left for the pub.

 

Zane was outside on his phone when she arrived.

 

“Nah, she’s not here yet,” he was saying as she approached.  “Well, no…I mean, she’d said I’d know her, right?  So I think it’s safe to say I’ll know her.  No, Kas.  Kas!  I’ll let you know…look, it was late – maybe she overslept?  I dunno!  I…”  He paused as she waved at him, his eyes lighting up in delight.  “…have to call you back.  No, it’s not…Kas, hanging up now!”

 

He grinned at her as he shoved the phone in a pocket.

 

“Hey!  Thought I wasn’t seeing you until tonight?” he asked, even as she was apologizing for being late.  They both paused, and it struck her that he really had no idea.  He didn’t recognize her at all – which was…ok, weird?  Honestly, how many girls with short blue hair were running around this little town?  He blinked, his smile slipping slightly.  “Sorry?”

 

“I…” she paused, and she laughed as she shook her head.  She reached up to press a hand against her eyes, and she missed the way he gasped as her coat sleeve slipped down her arm, revealing the edges of her bandage.  “I really need some coffee.  And food.  We did agree on lunch, didn’t we?”

 

“You…” he gawked, and she nodded towards the pub.

 

“We have a lot to talk about, I know,” she said, “but I really need some caffeine.  I overslept – I said sorry about that, didn’t I? – and I came straight here, so I really, really need some coffee before we talk.  And food.”

 

“Wait, wait, wait,” he said, grabbing her arm as she went to move past him.  She winced when his hand closed around her wound, and he cursed as he jerked back like she’d burnt him.  Or like he’d burnt her.  “Sorry.  I…Ami, let me get this straight here.  You’re…last night?”

 

“Yes,” she said simply.  She was too tired to play any games with him, and dancing around the truth had never been her forte.  She reached out and took his hand, squeezing gently in encouragement.  And it took a moment, his eyes darting about as he took her in and processed her words, but then he actually smiled – a full-blown, face-splitting grin, actually, and despite her own exhaustion she had to smile at that.  At least he seemed pleased by her revelation.

 

The pub was relatively empty when they went inside.  She had expected it to be busier, but apart from a few stragglers and Tom behind the counter there was no lunch rush to be found.  She grabbed a table as Zane went to Tom and ordered, and a short while later he had returned with drinks and news that sandwiches would follow shortly.  She had removed her jacket, and his eyes had immediately fallen to the bandage on her arm.

 

“How bad is it?” he asked.  She shrugged slightly.

 

“I’ve had worse,” she answered truthfully.  The wound had been bad, but she had thoroughly cleaned and bandaged it.  That, along with her accelerated healing abilities, would prevent any infection from setting in.  She jumped when he set a small jar on the table before her.

 

“Keep it clean,” he instructed.  “Use that on it three times a day.  Three’s a good number.  Should keep anything from setting in.”

 

“I’m studying to be a doctor,” she said.  She pushed the jar back to him, offering a smile.  “And I’ve been a Senshi since I was fourteen.  I appreciate the gesture, but I think I know how to take care of a wound.”

 

His eyes narrowed at her title – _Senshi_ , as if it tickled something in his memory – but he said nothing as he pushed the jar back to her.

 

“All due respect, Ami, that’s no ordinary wound you have there,” he finally said.  “Keep it clean, and use that three times a day.”

 

“What is it?” she asked dubiously, and he rolled his eyes.

 

“A salve,” he said.  When she still failed to take it, he took her hand, picked the jar up, and placed it in her palm.  “Would you just trust me, girseach?  That bite you got there isn’t from anything natural.  This salve is an old recipe, and it’s specially made to heal against bastards like what got you last night.  So please just humor me and take it, all right?”

 

She sighed and placed the jar in her jacket pocket, laughing slightly.  She gave him a weary smile as she sipped her coffee, then said, “I almost forgot what an overbearing mother hen you could be.”

 

He merely grinned as he leaned back in his chair.  He had an arm slung casually across the back, and his feet were kicked up in another chair.  He was picking at a nick in the table, and he kept looking back to Tom.  When the silence had dragged on for too long, he glanced back at her.  She had almost finished her coffee.  “So,” he started, catching her attention, “you know me.”

 

“I know you,” she said.

 

“And not just from when we were kids,” he pressed, and she took the final sip of her coffee.

 

“This is actually really good coffee,” she said in lieu of answering.  “I think I’ll have another.”

 

Before she could stand he had reached out and grabbed her wrist, slouching across the table with a groan.  He whined, “Ami, come on.  You’re killing me here.”

 

“I’m sorry,” she said.  She pulled her hand back slightly, but only to link her fingers with his own.  He jumped at the contact, as if she had physically shocked him, and he raised his head to stare at their joined hands.  “It’s just a bit harder than I thought it would be.  Zane, I need you to tell me what you know.  What you remember.  It’ll be easier to explain everything from there.”

 

“Well, what do you mean, what I know?” he asked.  “I know a lot.  I –”

 

“You know what I mean, Zane,” she cut in, her eyes narrowing at him.  “I know you are Zoisite, but do you know who Zoisite was…is?  Do you remember what that means?  Do you…do you remember me?  Do you remember Sailor Mercury?”

 

“Sailor…I know that name,” he said, rubbing at his temple.  He snapped his fingers as something seemed to come to him.  “Sailor V.  She was in England a few years back?  But no, I don’t know Sailor Mercury.  At least I don’t think I do.”

 

“Oi, Murphy!” Tom called, tapping on the bar, and Zane rolled his eyes before squeezing her hand.  She released him as he stood, and a few moments later he was back with their sandwiches and another mug of coffee for her.  She raised her eyebrows, impressed at the balancing act he was pulling with the plates, and he winked at her.

 

“I pick up shifts now and then,” he said.  He took a bite of his sandwich and nodded back to Tom.  “Another reason the old bastard hates me.”

 

She hummed and took a bite.  It was surprisingly good.

 

“You told me last night that you’ve been having dreams,” she said after they had eaten a few moments in silence.  He swallowed and nodded.  “When did they start?”

 

“Being perfectly honest?” he asked, and she fought the urge to roll her eyes as she nodded.  He shrugged and looked back to his sandwich.  “It’s…complicated.  Remember I told you I was in a coma?  I guess they started around when I woke up from that.”

 

“And what caused the coma again?” she asked.  He put his sandwich down and slouched back in his chair, his arm resting across the back again.

 

“The official story is I slipped on the rocks at the castle,” he said.

 

“And the unofficial story?”

 

He studied his plate, and instead of answering her he began picking at the remaining crusts.  There was a storm in his eyes, ghosts that she wasn’t sure if he was unable or unwilling to share.  She remembered a time, years back when Luna had first found them, when Mamoru had worn a similar look.  Before their memories had started to return, when he hadn’t even had a guardian cat to guide them through the chaotic world they had been thrown into.  When all he had to go on was a mysterious Princess in his dreams that had called out to him to find the ginzuishou.

 

She reached out, gently pulling his hand away from the crumbs of his sandwich to once again link their fingers.  She had never really been one for public displays, but she also had never really had the chance to know otherwise, either.  She was learning she liked the feeling of his hand in hers.  When he turned that troubled gaze back to her, she smiled at him.

 

“Why don’t we get out of here?  We could go up to the castle, and you can tell me what you remember there,” she said.  His eyes glazed over again, and his grip tightened on her hand.

 

“The castle’s important, isn’t it?” he asked.  She hated how scared he sounded.  “All this time…Ami, you’re real, aren’t you?”

 

“What?” she asked, surprised.  The fear had crept into his eyes.

 

“I told you once there was a ghost at the castle,” he said, “and I get the feeling that…you’re not the ghost, are you?  You’re real, right?”

 

She wanted to laugh, but looking at him she knew to do so would be cruel.  So she stood and used their joined hands to pull him to his feet.  Before she could second guess herself, she leaned up and placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

 

“There was never a ghost, Zane,” she said gently, “but I think I can tell you what really happened, if you’d like.  And yes, I’m very real.”

 

– V –

 

Years ago, he had told her a story as they had made the climb to the wall-walk.  And when he remained silent, even after leaving the town behind, she decided that maybe this time she should tell him a story.  They stood outside what had once been the gates, now no more than a crumbling wall marking the perimeter of the ruins.  She knew the monster from before was gone, but there was a different sort of monster lingering beyond the gate now.  He had once told her the castle was haunted.

 

She didn’t think he had ever realized how right he was, even now.

 

“The first time you brought me here, I remember thinking I would be happy if I could come to call this place home,” she said.  Their hands were still linked – had been linked the entire journey from the pub – and so she gave his a reassuring squeeze.  “I had already fallen in love with the king.  Loving his land and people weren’t so far a stretch after that.”

 

“The first time…” he started, but he shook his head as he looked back to the castle.  “The first time I took you here, you asked me why I was wearing a skirt and almost left me on the wall-walk because I tried to convince you it was haunted.”

 

“That was the first time Zane took Ami here,” she corrected gently.  “I’m talking about the first time Zoisite brought Brigid here.”

 

His eyes widened at the names.  She released his hand and walked through the gate, pausing to rest her hand against the worn stone.  She smiled sadly as she remembered the structure it had once been.

 

“Do you remember the story you told me, back then?  When we were kids and I asked you why you were wearing a skirt?” she asked.  Though her words were serious, there was a gentle, teasing undertone woven throughout them.  She glanced back at him, a wry smile quirking her lips.  He was wearing another kilt today, though this one was a simple black and lacked any real ornamentation.

 

“I told you the castle had belonged to my ancestor, who had fallen in love with one of the daoine maithe.  He died, but she haunted the castle,” he said.  She frowned.

 

“ _Doy ni ma_?” she asked, frowning as she tried – and failed – to repeat the term.  He chuckled and walked over to her, his arms folded over his chest.

 

“The Good People,” he explained.  “Faerie.  At least that’s what the legends said.”

 

“You didn’t think she was a d…dwoy…a faerie back then,” she said, and he chuckled as her tongue tripped over the bit of Irish.

 

“ _Dwoyn-ee ma-ha_ ,” he said slower, tapping her nose.  She rolled her eyes, and he winked at her.  “Points for trying, though.  I don’t know what I thought back then, to be honest.  I…I still don’t really think she was, but I don’t think she was human, either.  Maybe she was a goddess.  You did call her Brigid.”

 

“She wasn’t,” she laughed, “though you always tried to tell me otherwise.”

 

“And you said you weren’t the ghost,” he quipped, lifting a brow at her, “but there you go with those personal pronouns again.  So, tell me, mo chara…who exactly are you, and what do you know about Zoisite?”

 

“It’s complicated,” she said as they continued to walk.  And she wasn’t trying to evade the question, but she didn’t know how to answer him.  Where could she even begin?  And was it better to just tell him everything, or should he remember on his own?  Would telling him trigger the memories?  Would it prevent him from remembering at all?

 

“Then let’s start with what I know,” he said, kicking at a pebble on the path.  “I guess it starts with that coma I was telling you about?  I told you I was having dreams.  The dreams kind of started then, when I woke up from the coma.  Or…maybe they started a bit before?  I don’t really know.  Feels like I’ve had ‘em forever.”

 

“You said you fell on the rocks,” she reminded him, and he nodded.

 

“Yeah, except I know these ruins inside out, right?  Doesn’t make sense that I’d just…fall.  But thanks to the brain damage, I don’t really remember what did happen.  The doctors and garda just went with the excuse that made the most sense,” he said.  He closed his eyes and sighed.  “I…I don’t just dream, Ami.  Sometimes they’re nightmares.  Remember how I told you I thought the king in the legends died because of a witch?  I think I saw her.  I saw something, at least, that scared me.  That’s what made me fall.  I don’t remember a lot, but I know that much.”

 

“You did say the castle was haunted,” she said, but he shook his head.

 

“Nah, but I know that ghost.  And after the dreams…I don’t think she’s really a ghost?  Just…me remembering somebody important,” he offered, waving his hand around the ruins.  “Like…right now.  I look around, aye, and I see a crumbling castle.  I know these rocks and stones are falling apart around us.  But I look, and I see her walking through a garden.  Or that window up there?  She’s watching me.  I used to see her on the wall-walk all the time.  She kept looking out at the sea.  I used to think she was waiting for her king to come home.”

 

“She came here when she heard of his death,” she said quietly.  He turned wide eyes to her, but she couldn’t look at him.  “When Prince Endymion came to tell them about the ambush, she came here.  They told her not to – the Earth wasn’t safe anymore, and it was too dangerous with…but I had to know.  I couldn’t believe…and I stood on that wall, waiting for you to return when I knew you wouldn’t.”

 

His hand brushed against her cheek, and she was startled to realized she was crying.  She laughed weakly, trying to smile for him as she reached up and wiped the tears away.  He frowned as she apologized and asked him to continue.

 

“I…so I’ve had the dreams for a while,” he finally said, somewhat awkwardly as he leaned against the wall beside her.  “Then a few months back, I woke up one morning to find this on my dresser.”  He held up his wrist, showing her the stone she had noticed the night before.  “I didn’t know what it was at first, but I knew it was important.  I started wearing it, and the dreams got worse.  There was this kid…Helios?  He told me my name was Zoisite, and it was my duty to protect the Prince.  I had to find the girl in my dreams, and she could take me to the Prince.  He showed me how to use the stone, and he told me to keep it safe.  That it would be important later.”

 

“Has he spoken to you often, or just the once?” she asked.

 

“Just once,” he answered.  “He said the memories would start to come back, but I wouldn’t remember everything until I found the Prince.  ‘Don’t lose heart,’ he said, ‘she will find you again, and then you will fulfill your destiny.’  And I assumed ‘she’ was the girl in my dreams.  You.”

 

They lapsed into an easy silence as they began walking through the castle.  Somehow, without either realizing it, they found themselves once more making the climb to the wall.  When they once again stood on the walk, facing out towards the sea, she reached once more for his hand.

 

“You are Zoisite, and Zoisite was the king that lived here,” she finally said.  “It’s…complicated, like I said, but essentially…you were the king of this land, but you were also a guardian of the Crown Prince that ruled the entire Earth.”

 

“Endymion…” he murmured, and she nodded.

 

“I…was not from Earth,” she said.  He smiled slightly at that, and she rolled her eyes.  “I was the princess of Mercury, but I was born a Senshi.  It was my duty to protect Princess Serenity of the Moon.  Your Prince fell in love with my Princess, and then…”

 

“We fell in love?” he guessed, and she laughed at how simple – how cliché – it sounded.

 

“More or less,” she said.  “It was all rather poetic, actually.  They fell in love, and then their guards fell in love.”  She paused, her expression darkening as she looked out at the sea.  “And then the Shadow appeared, and it destroyed everything.  You were right, Zane.  There was a witch.  And a war.  And we all died.”

 

It was the simple version of things, but she didn’t want to go into more detail than that.  He would remember in time, and she would be there for him when he did.  But for now…she didn’t want to remember, not standing where she was.  She didn’t want to face those demons today.

 

“But Queen Serenity used the ginzuishou to save us all,” she finally continued, “and she sent us here, to be reborn as normal people.  To live normal lives.  But when I was fourteen, the Shadow returned.  The Senshi were awakened with orders to find the Moon Princess and the ginzuishou.  We didn’t remember everything at first, but as we grew stronger…when we found Princess Serenity and the crystal…things started to come back.”

 

“You’re not telling me everything,” he said accusingly.  He was looking at her with a half-hearted glare, and she laughed as she rubbed her palms against her eyes.

 

“What do you want me to tell you, Zane?  That before Zoisite died he was captured by the witch, and that she turned him against us?  That Zoisite returned, a demon in his own right, and killed so many people on the Moon before he killed Brigid, as well?” she asked.  She felt him tense beside her, and she lowered her hands to stare helplessly at the sea.  She couldn’t look at him.  “That in this life, when we were supposed to get our second chance and be normal, we found each other and didn’t even realize it?  That before you could return to your Prince the witch snatched you up again, and the first time I saw Zoisite in this life he was trying to kill me?”

 

“I don’t like this story,” he mumbled, and she laughed derisively as she wiped at her eyes again.

 

“No, I didn’t think you would,” she quipped.  She sighed as she gripped the wall, closing her eyes and bowing her head.  “I believe you’ll remember in time.  Probably once you see Mamoru – isn’t that what Helios told you?  I didn’t…I didn’t want to tell you everything.  It didn’t seem fair.”

 

“But you remember,” he accused.  Her lips quirked in a slight smile.

 

“Because I’ve been fighting for this planet since I was fourteen.  I’ve had time to remember,” she said.  “You…Helios said I would take you to the Prince.  I think that’s the key to unlocking your memories.  So…I can tell you what I know, or I can do what Helios instructed and bring you home.  I won’t force you either way.  The choice is yours.”

 

“You know this Helios, then?” he asked.  “You trust him?”

 

She almost laughed at that.

 

“Yes,” she said instead.  He sighed and tipped his head back, smiling slightly as he stared at the sky.  A bird cried out as it flew above them, and his shoulders dropped as he relaxed against the wall.

 

“Well,” he finally said, closing his eyes.  “Guess there’s nothing for it, then.”

 

“Pardon?”

 

“I need to find the Prince, don’t I?  And I already told you: I’ve been in love with you since we were kids.  Since before, apparently,” he joked.  He cracked an eye open and smiled at her.  “You really think I have a choice in the matter?  Of course I’m going with you.”

 

“Zane…just because that’s who you _were_ doesn’t mean that’s who you _are_ ,” she said.  She wrapped her arms around her middle, hugging herself against the cold.  “We’ve all had to face that choice.  Just because we were soldiers back then doesn’t mean we have to be now.  Queen Serenity gave us this second chance to be normal.”

 

“And yet you said it yourself,” he pointed out kindly, smiling as he rested his hand against her cheek.  “You’ve been fighting for this planet since you were fourteen.  I get that the choice is mine, Ami, but saying that do you really think I could choose anything else?”

 

He pulled her against him, hugging her as he rested his head against her own.  She burrowed closer to him, and he said, “If last night showed you anything it should be that, even when we’re stuck in the middle of normal, we don’t get normal.  But I think that’s not so bad, when not being normal means we’re actually fighting for something worthwhile.  If it means I get to not be normal with you.”

 

“Incorrigible,” she muttered, her voice muffled against his chest, and he laughed as he dropped a kiss against the top of her head.

 

“Only for you, mo chara,” he quipped.  He tilted her head up, grinning again as he bent down and kissed her nose.  He was pleased to see the red staining her cheeks from the gesture.  “Only for you.  Now, when do we leave?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sláinte: Literally “health”, but used as a drinking toast.
> 
> Redcap: Also called a Powrie or a Dunter. A malevolent creature said to haunt the ruined castles along the borders between England and Scotland. Will murder stray travelers who trespass into their homes. Namesake refers to the caps they wear (which, according to some lore, are made of human skin) that must be continuously dipped in fresh blood lest the Powrie die.
> 
> Taoiseach: Translating to “chieftain” or “leader”, the official title of Ireland’s Prime Minister. In O.R. Melling’s Chronicles of Faerie, it is also used as the official title of the hereditary kings of Ireland – the clan leaders, etc. – that maintain the relationship between Ireland and Faerie. I use it in that sense here: while Zane doesn’t actually hold any political power (yet), he is recognized through lineage by the older townsfolk – and the Powrie – to be someone of importance/their leader.
> 
> The song Zane is singing is called “Whiskey in the Jar”. There’s this fun bit of lore that says some of the traditional tunes of Ireland were originally from Faerie and we have them thanks to people who overheard them being sung by Fae. Our versions, of course, are nowhere near as they should be, and it’s said the Good People get offended if they overhear them being sung by mortals – hence Zane using one to draw out the Powrie. Musha ring dumma do, dumma da~


	27. A Promise I Made to Stay...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zane loves Ami. Ami loves Zane. But Ami is dating Hideki, and they’re all just going to have to live with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: “A Promise I Made to Stay…”  
> Fandom: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon  
> Prompt: 106 (Promise)  
> Character/Pairing: Mizuno Ami, Zane Murphy/Zoisite; Zoisite x Ami (Unrequited), Ami x OC  
> Rating: T / PG-13 / Teen  
> Word Count: 3,925  
> Summary: Zane loves Ami. Ami loves Zane. But Ami is dating Hideki, and they’re all just going to have to live with that.  
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.  
> Authors Notes: College-age/pre-Crystal Tokyo. I highly doubt there’s anyone who hasn’t seen 13 Going on 30 by this point, so at the risk of spoilers (and yo it’s on Netflix go enjoy some cheesy 2000s romcom trash): I will confess that, while I’m as happy as anyone that things worked out for Jenna and Matt, there’s a part of me that has always respected and loved Matt for his willingness to stay with Wendy. There’s something to be said for true love and soulmates, but there’s also something to be said for commitment and the promises you make. (…TBW? There are no happy endings here. Also wow I’m so sorry – apparently I forgot to upload this one. I thought I had ages ago and just found it sitting in the wrong folder.)

_oh, but I’m scared to death that there may not be another one like this_

_and I confess that I’m only holding on by a thin, thin thread…_

_“sad” – maroon 5_

 

Zane was not having a good night.

 

His night had actually been complete and utter shite up to this point, if he was being perfectly honest.  At least it was following the pattern of the past few months…year…whatever.  There was something to be said for consistency.

 

It had started in his last class, when he had been partnered up with the laziest waste of tuition walking the campus.  They had met immediately after for a grand total of five minutes, during which Zane realized he’d be shouldering the entire project.  He would have been fine with that (not really, but he was good at faking) if he had not gone to leave campus and run straight into Ami, who had been on her way to meet _Him_ for dinner.  He had tuned out just slightly when she had started discussing the Boyfriend, but he had kept the pleasant smile on his face long enough to seem interested.

 

It might not have been so bad if she hadn’t hesitated before walking away.  If she hadn’t laid a hand against his arm, her skin practically burning his own, and thanked him for being such a great _friend_.  For being so _understanding_.  And because he was still head over heels in love with the blue-haired genius, he had given her his best smile, a quick one-armed hug, and told her not to mention it.  “Anything for you, mo chara.  You know that,” he had said, and he’d watched her walk away to meet up with a man who wasn’t him.  Just like he had every day for the past year.

 

The night had only gotten worse from there.  He had stopped by a nearby café, thinking a strong coffee would help, and he’d only gotten one sip from the damned thing before a ditzy high schooler had walked past him with a friend and accidentally slapped the coffee out of his hand as they talked – and straight into his bag, where his laptop was bundled with two textbooks and three classes worth of notebooks.  Thinking it couldn’t get much worse, he’d continued to the takeout place Kas had told him he’d ordered dinner at – only to get home and discover they’d mixed up the order.  (It wouldn’t have been a problem, except both dishes contained peanuts.  Which would send him into anaphylactic shock, so…microwave ramen it was.)

 

By that point, he had given up.  He had flopped onto the sofa, deciding that he had no other option but to stay in and wallow in his misery in the comfort of his own flat, until Kassim had come home, tossed a jacket on his face, and informed him they’d be going out.

 

“We’re meeting everyone at the shrine,” Kassim had said when he asked why he felt the need to drag him from his wallowing.  “Minako said Ami has something she needs to tell everyone.”

 

His night had gone downhill from there.  Because if he was honest, he had had a feeling he knew exactly what Ami wanted to share.  And he was just as certain that he had absolutely no interest in hearing it.

 

“I’m not going,” he had said, rather adamant in his refusal.

 

“You are,” Kassim had insisted, and his tone had left no room for argument.  So Zane had glared at him, and Kassim had glared right back.  “You will put that jacket on and join everyone at the shrine, and when Ami tells us her news you will congratulate her and at the very least _act_ like you’re happy for her.  You will be her friend, which is exactly what she’s expecting of you right now.”

 

“She expects too much,” he had said bitterly, but Kassim had merely scoffed before throwing a brush at his head.

 

“You have twenty minutes – make yourself presentable!”

 

It was easier said than done.

 

All he had been doing for the past year was _acting_ like he was happy around her, and because of that he had been slowly dying inside.  Being happy for Ami – being her _friend_ – was actually killing him, but no one seemed to care.

 

There was a time when he honestly had been happy for her.  When he had first moved to Tokyo the summer before his first year at university, he had seen her for the first time at a little bookshop near campus and he had been _ecstatic_.  That happiness had lasted all of ten minutes and half of a coffee.  She had been sitting at a café table near the entrance to the shop, and he had just about worked up the courage to approach her when a man with blonde hair so dark it was practically brown had walked in and kissed her.

 

When they met later, after he had tried to avoid her but had still managed to bump into her on his way out, the man had been introduced as Hideki.  Hideki was her boyfriend, and they had been dating since her second year in high school.  Zane had been introduced as an ‘old friend she hadn’t seen in a while’.  It hadn’t been wrong, but it hadn’t been the truth, either.

 

At first, it hadn’t been so bad.  As the reborn Shitennou met up and came back into the lives of their Prince and past loves, there had been a bit of an adjustment period.  Trust needed to be rebuilt.  Relationships reformed.  And while the girls were (mostly) understanding, especially when they considered the fact that even Mamoru had been susceptible to Metalia’s brainwashing, the betrayals had still run deep.  Still, things had…progressed.  And one by one, he had watched as his brothers reconnected with the women they had once and still loved, and while Ami was more than willing to be his _friend_ …she had Hideki.  And even as they grew closer, she continued to stay with Hideki.  To choose the mouse-haired _Outsider_ over him, every single time.  And, since he was nothing if not a glutton for punishment, he continued to stay by her side, the faithful friend, even as she continued to rip his heart out with every callous word and misplaced gesture.

 

So no, he wasn’t entirely looking forward to whatever news Ami now had to share.  They had arrived shortly before Ami and Hideki, and sure enough as soon as she arrived she was raising her hand to show them a horribly tacky diamond ring.  (…he should be fair.  It wasn’t that the ring was _tacky_ – it was, from an unbiased view, rather lovely – but it wasn’t the blue-stoned claddagh he would have given her.)  And he had joined the others in the congratulations and well-wishes, and he had even laughed as he hugged her (perhaps a bit tighter and longer than he should have).  He had even joined the guys in the well-intentioned ribbing of Hideki, going so far as to (jokingly) punch his shoulder as he welcomed him to the group (perhaps a bit harder and more ill-intentioned than he should have).  And as they began to mingle, to talk and laugh with the others, he had quickly taken up residence in a corner at the back in hopes of making it perfectly clear that _he was miserable and did not want to be there_.  His duty as the _good friend_ was done, and they could all leave him alone now, thank you very much.  Which had worked out great, at first, until Little Miss Sunshine herself, Tsukino-soon-to-be-Chiba Usagi, sat down next to him.

 

“I knew that’s what Ami wanted to tell us,” she said quietly.

 

“Yep,” he grunted.  He tipped his head back against the wall with a groan.  “Thought it would be, too.  Couldn’t wait to hear it.  Christ, I need a drink.”

 

She sighed and leaned against him, propping her head on his shoulder.  He glanced down at her to find she was frowning at him.

 

“I think we should break them up,” she said, and his eyebrows rose at that.  He actually smiled.

 

“Agreed,” he said, bemused.  “I’ll help.”

 

“Don’t get me wrong.  Hideki’s a nice guy,” Usagi said.  She rolled her eyes as she nudged his side.  “It’s just that _you_ should be her boyfriend…fiancé, whatever, not _him_.”

 

“Agreed,” he said again, lifting an arm to wrap it around her shoulders.  “I’ll help.”

 

“You’ll do no such thing,” Minako admonished as she walked over to them.  She sat down on his opposite side, her eyes falling on the happy couple as she sipped her drink.  She was speaking to both of them, but her glare was directed at Zane.  She was probably expecting the most trouble from him, even though Usagi had been the one to suggest the meddling.  “She loves Hideki, and he’s a good guy, and they’re _happy_ – don’t you both agree Ami deserves to be happy?”

 

“’Course she does,” he grumbled.  “I just want her to be happy with me.”

 

“Same,” Usagi pouted.

 

“Now you just sound selfish,” Minako huffed, and she yelped as he snatched her drink and took a swig.  He immediately grimaced – the punch Rei had set out was entirely too fruity and contained absolutely no alcohol.  It was disgusting.

 

“It’s not selfish,” Usagi argued.  “I want Ami happy.  I just want her happy with the right guy.”

 

“And who’s to say Hideki isn’t the right guy?” Minako asked.

 

“Me,” Zane pointed out, handing her drink back.  “He’s absolutely not the right guy.”

 

“And that makes it selfish,” Minako sniffed.  She picked at some invisible lint on the skirt of her dress.  “I thought Kas warned you to put on your happy face tonight?”

 

“I had my happy face on,” he said.  “I said congratulations, I wished them well, and I even hugged her.  That’s about all the happy I have right now, thanks.”

 

“Zane…” she sighed, and he glared at her.

 

“Don’t expect me to say I’m honestly glad she’s marrying the bastard when I’m not,” he snapped.

 

“You don’t have to be,” she said gently, placing a hand on his knee.  “You just have to pretend you are for her.  Zane, she’s been with him for ages now – longer than the entire time you guys have been back.  You had to have realized this was coming.”

 

“I kept thinking she’d remember how much she loved Zane and break up with Hideki,” Usagi sighed.  He nodded.

 

“Same,” he said.  Minako sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

 

“If you can give me one good reason Hideki is bad for Ami, I will step aside and let you two meddle to content your hearts,” Minako finally huffed, and he was insulted just enough to forgive her malapropism.  His eyes slipped back to where Ami was talking with Rei, Hideki standing beside her with his arm wrapped possessively around her waist.  Rei was holding her hand, gushing over the ring, and he felt his stomach flip.

 

And he hated it, because try as he might…he couldn’t.

 

Because the only reason he could come up with was _He isn’t me_ , and he knew – just as Minako knew – that that wasn’t good enough.

 

“I need some air,” he bit, ignoring their sympathetic stares as he pushed himself up and stalked out of the room.  He didn’t need their pity.

 

– V –

 

He had wandered for a bit, hoping the ambling and crisp night air would prove enough of a distraction.  Neither were working well.  He had finally found himself at the top of the steps leading up to the temple, and he had plopped down rather ungracefully in a frustrated heap.  He had pulled out a cigarette and had barely placed it between his lips when a voice behind him said, “You know I hate when you do that.”

 

Lucky for her, she surprised him enough that he dropped the cigarette on the steps, where it bounced away into the night.  He sighed as Ami took a seat beside him, but he didn’t pull out another.  He leaned back, his elbows resting against the top step as he stretched his legs out.  The night was cold, and he was regretting his decision to wear a kilt instead of trousers.  Trousers would have been a better call.

 

“I missed you inside,” she said as she sat on the top step.  He wished she wouldn’t sit so close.  If he moved his elbow, just a bit, he’d be touching her.  He shouldn’t even be considering touching her right now.

 

“I saw you,” he said, trying to make his voice sound light.  “You came in, big announcement, flashed the rock.  I said yippee, and you got swarmed by the girls.”

 

“I sincerely doubt there has ever been a time in your life where you have seriously said _yippee_ ,” she deadpanned.  _To hell with it_ , he thought as he nudged her side.  Pulling up the last dregs of a good mood, he even tossed her a wink.

 

“Sure there has,” he said.  “Just did.  You and Hideki getting hitched.  _Yippee_.”

 

“Zane…” she sighed, reaching down to lay her hand atop his own, and he froze at the contact.  His gaze focused on their hands, at how hers instinctively – comfortingly, though the gesture provided absolutely no comfort at all – flexed around his own.

 

“I don’t like him, Ami,” he said seriously.  He couldn’t look at her.  He knew he’d lose his courage if he did.  If he saw the guilt he knew he was about to bring to her eyes.  “I know you want me to, and I know I should, but I can’t stand the bastard.  I hate him, and I hate that you’re with him, and I would give anything right now to go back in that room and punch his bloody lights out just because, when all this is over, he’s the one going home with you.”

 

She froze, and he realized all too late that he must have been having an out of body experience.  The sudden rushing in his ears, the feeling of all the air being sucked from his lungs, was surely what one experienced when returning to their body after going on autopilot and doing something so incredibly _stupid_.

 

“But,” he added quickly, before she could recover and look at him with that horrible, pity-filled stare the others kept giving him, “Minako thinks it’s all bollocks and I should just keep my damn mouth shut and be the friend you need, so yes, mo chara.  _Yippee_.”

 

“You know…I…I think Minako wants it to work so badly because she’s the one who introduced us,” Ami said quietly.  She removed her hand, and he didn’t know if that was better or not.  She wouldn’t look at him anymore.  That should be better, but it really wasn’t.  So he snorted and flicked at a loose thread on his kilt.

 

“Yeah, sorry.  I still don’t like him,” he said.  She seemed honestly surprised by that, or maybe just confused.

 

“I thought you did, though?  You’ve always been friendly to him, at least, and Hideki’s never said a bad thing about you,” she said, and he groaned as he tilted his head back to look at her.

 

“Ami, please,” he whined.  “Look at me, honestly _look_ at me, and say that again with a straight face.  Tell me you honestly thought I liked the man you were dating.  Tell me I’m honestly supposed to _like_ Hideki.  Deki.  The Dekster.”

 

He shouldn’t be making jokes, but she had started to frown.  On top of everything else, he didn’t think he could take a Sad Ami right now.  So when she snorted, raising a hand to cover a laugh, he grinned at her like this evening wasn’t tearing him to shreds inside.

 

“That’s a horrible nickname,” she said, and he shrugged as he looked back to the street below them.

 

“I’m only required to give him the nickname,” he said.  “It’s not required to be _good_ , and he’s not required to like it – he’s just required to answer to it.”

 

“Don’t you have to like someone to give them a nickname, though?” she asked softly, and he quickly – violently – shook his head.

 

“Nope,” he said.  “You can also nickname someone you hate.  You know.  So you can talk about ‘em without ‘em knowing.  Or just to piss ‘em off."

 

“That’s very big of you,” she said dryly, and he was grinning again.

 

“It is, isn’t it?” he said, and because he really was a glutton for punishment, he winked at her again.  The curl of her lips could barely be quantified as a smile, but he was finding he didn’t really care anymore.  He was so damned tired.  He didn’t want her sad, not because of him, but was it too much to ask that he be the one to make her happy, too?  Was it too much to ask that, after everything, Hideki would just sod off so they could have their happy ending?

 

“What’s so great about Hideki, anyway?” he asked bitterly, breaking the silence.  The look she gave him spoke volumes, but he refused to back down.  “I mean it, mo chara.  What’s so special about him?”

 

“He’s charming, for one,” she said, and he snorted as he kicked a pebble down the steps.

 

“If you’re into that,” he said.  She closed her eyes as she pinched the bridge of her nose, and he knew she was mentally counting down from ten.

 

“I’ve been with him a long time,” she finally said.  “I can’t point to just _one_ thing, Zane, because there’s so much about him that makes him special.  I love him.”

 

“Yeah, well, you loved me, too, once,” he bit.  He refused to face her, but he still glanced up at her with a petulant little glare.  “You could even argue that you were with me for a long time.”

 

“It’s not the same, and you know it,” she said.  He thought it might have been better if she had yelled the words.  If she hadn’t been so calm as she spoke them.  Made it seem like she actually cared that she was breaking his heart.  It was so hard to fight for her when she wasn’t even willing to return the favor.

 

“It should be,” he sighed.  He dropped his elbows and fully reclined on the steps.  He crossed his arms over his stomach and tried not to think about how it felt like he was only holding himself together because it felt like he was falling apart.

 

“It can’t be,” she said.  Her hands were clasped above her knees, and he noticed they were shaking.  Maybe she was falling apart a little, too.  He doubted it, but the thought made him feel just a bit better.  “Zane, I…it’s not that I don’t love you.  You understand that, don’t you?”

 

“Nope,” he said lightly, even popping the ‘p’ in an attempt at ill-placed humor.  “As it seems to me if you loved me you’d be marrying me, not him.”

 

“That’s not fair.”

 

“It’s plenty fair,” he argued.  “You love someone you stay with ‘em.  So if you loved me, you’d be with me, and Hideki would –”

 

“Still be a problem, because I met Hideki in high school – four years before you came back!  Four years before I knew you were even alive!” she shouted, and that was something, at least.  He pushed himself up, glaring as she continued.  He didn’t want to read too much into it.  He didn’t want to _hope_.  “I know we have a history, Zane, but how can I possibly explain that to him when he and I have a history, too?  How could I just break up with him because a man I don’t even know but who happens to be the reincarnation of a past lover just showed up in my life?  I wouldn’t have done that to you, so how can you possibly expect me to do that to him?”

 

“So this is my fault, then?  Because I didn’t come back soon enough?” he asked.  “That’s…that’s just…bullshit, Ami!  Utter bullshit!  I had no control over that!”

 

“And I had no control over meeting Hideki!  Zane, I didn’t even remember you at the time!  Not properly!” she cried.  She wasn’t crying, but there were tears in her eyes.  He didn’t know how to feel about that.  He hated to see her cry, even more so knowing he was the one who had caused it, but damn it all he just wanted her to hurt as bad as he was.  He wanted to know she gave a damn.  “I will not apologize for staying with a man I loved instead of choosing to chase after someone I had just met!  And I will not apologize for choosing to honor that commitment, even after I got to know you in this life, because it was a _commitment_!  I would hope you would understand the integrity in that!”

 

“So you’d let yourself be miserable forever because of honor,” he seethed, and she groaned as she buried her face in her hands.

 

“I would stay with someone I love because I committed to him first,” she said miserably.  “And I will not let you make me feel guilty about that when I already feel horrible enough when I see how you look at me and –”

 

It was unfair.

 

Cruel, even.

 

But damn it all if that stupid _hope_ wasn’t there again, and before she could finish her rant he was kissing her.  Her words died in a squeak as he brushed her hands aside, tugging her face to his own as he kissed her like he’d been dying to since he first saw her at the bookshop downtown.  And it wasn’t fair, because even though he was the one who started it she was kissing him back – giving as much as she was taking, sighing against his mouth even as the tears finally fell from her eyes.  And he hated it, because it was everything he had dreamed – remembered – it would be and yet still so very _wrong_.  He never wanted their first kiss to taste like regret.  He never wanted it to be fueled by jealousy, anger, hate, and rage.  He never thought she’d be pulling him towards her with one hand and pushing him away with the other.

 

“Stop!” she gasped, shoving him back too soon and yet not soon enough.  He dropped his hands to her knees, gripping them tightly as he pressed his forehead against her own.  “You…you can’t…”

 

“Tell me you felt nothing,” he breathed.  “I’ve tried, Ami.  I’ve tried to forget about you and everything we were before.  I’ve tried to move on.  And I know that just because you loved me then doesn’t mean you have to love me now, but I still love you.  And I know you love me.  You wouldn’t kiss me like that if you didn’t!  Tell me…tell me you felt nothing.  Tell me that eejit kisses you like that.  Tell me you don’t love me, a stór, and I’ll leave you be.”

 

“I can’t,” she whispered.  He hated the sound of tears in her voice.  The way they ran down her cheeks and dropped to his hands.  “Zane, you know I love you, but I am going to marry Hideki.  It’s just…it’s not that simple.”

 

And maybe he was the eejit, in the end.

 

Because it should be.

 

And he just couldn’t understand why it wasn’t.


End file.
